Hallett Hall
by jaxington
Summary: On our first night away at college, Bella Swan, thinking the room was her own, drunkenly stumbled into my bed. She was broken and I wanted to fix her. I loved her for four years before she left. Never did I expect her to come back, but she surprised me.
1. The Shivers

**Hello There!**

**Welcome to chapter 1 of my second ever Twilight story.**

**Here we have studious, shy Edward and wild, emotionally unstable Bella in college.**

**Let me know what you think.**

**Also, if you are interested, I am planning on posting teasers and fun stuff on my tumblr at jaxington(dot)tumblr(dot)com/**

**Enjoy and thanks for reading.**

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December 20, 2010

I'm perched on a lumpy couch, nursing beer number I-don't-know-what and glancing casually at my watch. I have only been here for sixty-two minutes. I promised Jake I would stay for at least another hour.

Jake is having a party. Jake is always having a party. He has no more ambitions than when I met him at age seventeen. He's still content to get wasted nightly and work as a mechanic daily. I thought by the time he hit his mid-twenties he would have developed some goals for the future, but Jake doesn't like change.

Med school is usually an excellent excuse to get out of shit like this, but I just finished exams for the fall semester. Plus, Jake enlisted the help of my twin sister. The two of them together spell doom for me.

They say I am in a funk. That I need more social interaction outside my study groups. That I need to get laid.

I can grudgingly admit to myself that they're right. I just haven't felt much like doing anything since she left me. Again.

I look past the thin blond whose name I can't remember, searching out the Jake in the crowd. I can't take any more. This girl is vapid and gushing about doctors and sitting too close to me. She's opposite of the girl I want and that is why she is here, selected by Jake specifically because she is nothing like the girl who left.

Jake knows what is like to be left by her, too. This may be how he coped, but it is certainly not working for me.

I let the thudding bass and the timbre of the voices of those packed into Jake's dingy living room drown out the babbling of this annoying girl. She says she goes to The University of Colorado and I wonder how she ever managed to get into college.

It really says something about the educational system, if you ask me.

In my irritation with Jake and Alice and this blond nobody, I've had too much to drink. I will never make the drive back to my crappy apartment in Denver and will be forced to sleep at my sister's. My old bedroom remains vacant, but I try not to spend too much time there. The walls of the house are thick with memories of her.

Finally, I meet the warm gaze of Jacob. I send him a look that demands him to rescue me from the woman who is now practically in my lap, and I am surprised to see that panic has replaced the laughter normally present in his eyes.

Shivers of electricity creep up my spine, and I blame it on the beer. It has been months since I last drank, and the alcohol is making my system fuzzy. All my defenses are down. Normally, I don't let myself think of her at all. Over the years, I have gotten very good at distracting myself from the fact that she's gone.

Yet tonight, as the perfectly French-manicured hand of this blond bimbo creeps up my thigh, dark hair and big eyes have infiltrated my consciousness.

In my drunken, pathetic state, I have even conjured up the electric shivers, so unique to her and me.

There is a warm hand on my shoulder, and the touch feels so good, I am prepared to give the owner of this hand anything to stay by my side forever and just keep touching me.

"Can we help you?" the blond asks. I focus on her because for the first time she isn't flirting with me, but is glaring at the owner of the hand. I want to punch the bimbo in the face for glaring at the person who gives me the shivers. "We're kinds of busy here."

The sneer on the blonde's face does nothing to make her more attractive.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea who you are dealing with, do you?"

I close my eyes. The voice plus the touch are enough to send my poor, neglected, lonely body into tremors. I wonder if I have accidentally ingested anything to cause such vivid hallucinations, and I make plans to take whatever it is again as soon as possible.

"Really. Get your hands off his dick and back the fuck up. Don't make me bitch slap you, shorty."

After another moment, the suffocating presence of the blond is replaced by lightning and heat, a fucking electric storm that is sending little jolts of almost-forgotten pleasure into my every pore.

I really did try to forget.

"Edward," says the voice. _Her_ voice. "Come on, baby. Open those pretty, pretty eyes."

I do just what she says, because I always do just what she says. It is pathetic and fucked up and the reason for all the heartbreak, but that is just how it has always been with us. It's too late to change.

And there is my dark angel, in all her glory and beauty and pain.

Since she left two years ago, I've spent a good amount of time convincing Alice, Jasper, Emmett, Rose, Jake, and myself that I'm over her. That I'm done with her. That I've finally, finally, _finally_ had enough. At some point, I actually started believing myself.

Apparently, I am not only a terrible liar, but also an idiot.

Looking at her, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she owns me. Mind, body, and soul. I've belonged to her since she accidentally stumbled into my dorm room freshman year.

"Bella," I reply, knowing that whatever happens next is sure to be the death of me.

I stare at the woman I hate for making me love so much. She's made it clear from the beginning that she's broken, that she has nothing to offer me, that she doesn't do commitment. That she doesn't even really like herself, so she couldn't possibly like me.

Going into this fucked-up relationship, I knew all this. Yet I did it anyway, eagerly. I made my choice. I gave up my right to hate her for leaving, but I did anyway.

I hate her for making me love her and refusing to let me help fix her.

"You are gawking at me," she says, smiling and running her fingers through the short hair at my temple. "I am going to take that as a sign that you missed me."

I sit silently and glare as I try to conjure the strength to tell her to fuck off.

"You look different. Your hair is shorter." She pouts as she studies me critically. I shudder unwillingly against her touch when what I really want to do is slap her hand away and tell her that she doesn't get a say in my life anymore. It shouldn't bother me that my hair isn't longer for her, but it does. "You know I like something to hold onto, Adonis. I hope you grow it out."

Still, I don't speak. I wish I could read her mind.

She looks different too. Better. Healthier. Stronger. Some things are the same, like her messy mane of mahogany hair and her punk-rock-meets-hippy-meets-mountain-man wardrobe. But there are no dark circles under her eyes, and there is a little bit of color in her cheeks.

"God," she says, shooting a glare over her shoulder at Jake, who is attempting to pick his way towards us through the crowd. "Let's go somewhere, okay? Before Jake and Alice freak out on us."

What she means is before they freak out on _her_. Alice and especially Jake will love her forever, but they are done putting up with her shit. They don't want me going anywhere with her. They are the smart ones.

My hand is in hers, and I suddenly find myself on my feet, moving towards the front door. I grab my jacket a second before she closes the door shut behind us.

Will I ever stand up to her? When will it be my turn to make the decisions regarding our combined future? Why can't I just tell her what I want and make her let me in all the way past the shield she has been building since she was fifteen?

I am a fucking zombie.

I can see our combined breath as we trudge through the snow. Boulder is beautiful in the winter. The ground is white with fresh snowflakes, and the night sky has a pinkish hue, indicating more will fall before morning. I try to focus on the sky instead of her hand in mine.

We get a few blocks away from Jake's place when Bella stops abruptly, wrapping her little arms around my waist.

She feels so good, and I am whole for the first time in two years. Even so, I somehow find the strength to not return her hug.

"Where have you been?" I choke out, my throat scratchy from alcohol and shock and disuse.

"Everywhere, Edward. I have been everywhere, and I miss you so much." Her voice is a whisper in the dark, and I will myself to stay strong. I have spent the last two years building my defenses. A little booze and a sneak attack shouldn't change that.

"Did you fuck anyone else?" I growl out. I am pleased that I sound as angry and violent as I feel.

"Don't be like that, Edward. I am here. We are together. Just hold me." Her breath is hot against my neck, and my fingers twitch at my sides as I fight my compulsion to do as she asks. It is even harder because I want it just as bad.

"You left me, Bella." I reply, looking anywhere but at her. If we make eye contact, I will fail. "No one has heard from you in months. I am allowed to be mad at you,"

Is this even real? Part of me thinks it is a dream, but I dismiss the idea because in my dreams, Bella comes back full of apologies, spouting words of love.

"I know, baby." Bella says, her hands moving to cup my face. "I know. I should have let you guys know I was all right. But I am here now, and I just want you to make me feel good,"

Resistance is futile, and I get lost in her deep eyes. We see all the way down to each other's souls, and it is still not enough for her.

I really want to be strong enough to tell her to fuck off.

"Are you still living in Goss Grove?" she asks without breaking eye contact.

I shake my head and keep my mouth shut. Her face falls, and I hate that I have somehow disappointed her, which is ridiculous, seeing as she disappoints me daily.

"Do Alice and Jazz and Em and Rose still live there?" Her fingers trace my jaw, and I have to close my eyes to keep my breathing from getting too ragged.

"Yes." I spit the word out quickly before asking the questions I have been dying to ask since I first saw her tonight. "What the hell are you doing here, Bella? What the fuck do you want form me?"

The words shoot out of me, and for one terrible moment I think Bella is going to cry, right there in the snowy street.

"I am here, Edward." She talks slowly, as if addressing a second grader. "Because Boulder is my home. And all I want is you."

My legs buckle slightly as she says all the right things. I forget that I hate her and that she still hasn't apologized and that she will only end up leaving me again. My hands find her hips, and my fingers dig into her soft skin in desperation.

"Please, Edward." I can never withstand her begging. "Please" really is the magic word. In my drunken state, I decide I see the apology she is unwilling to utter in her eyes.

I kiss her, crashing my lips to hers as I let out two years of pent-up emotion, hurt feelings, confusion, and the ache of being without her. The kiss is needy and violent and desperate. She moans around my tongue, and I lift her off the ground to get closer.

We grope and kiss as we stumble blindly to a nearby bus stop. The Hop pulls up seconds or minutes or hours later. I can't tell. I flash the burly female driver my bus pass that comes with my tuition. Bella uses an expired pass that worked when she was still a student at CU. The bus driver doesn't notice.

We sit at the back of the bus, our bodies facing each other. She traces the planes of my face with her fingertips, gazing at me reverently.

"How is it possible that you are more beautiful than I remember? How can a photo or my memory fail so horribly in capturing the real Edward?"

It is very hard in moments like this to remember that she doesn't love me.

We get to the house on Goss. It is devoid of occupants, and I am glad because I don't need the judgment of my friends and family. And neither does Bella.

She leads the way to my old bedroom, and the past two years didn't happen.

We stumble down the hallway, slamming each other's backs into the walls and kissing roughly until neither of us can breathe. She finally gets me in my old room, and the door swings shut, plunging us into darkness. Alice keeps the room exactly as I left it, down to the blackout curtains.

Without words, we find each other in the dark. Articles of clothing are removed as we fumble towards the bed. I fall forward, pinning her to the mattress with my hips. I pause to catch my breath, wishing that even a little bit of moonlight could get past the curtains.

Bella has been in shadows for too long, and I want to see her- really see her- so badly my chest hurts. I need to see her so badly that I violently rip back the drapes. I have to be able to see her because this will be the last time.

Our bodies are now bathed in the strange reflection of moonlight off the snow. I make her come with my hands and my dick and my mouth. She goes down on me and rides me and lets me fuck her in every way imaginable. The night is endless. I don't know if we sleep. I lose track of how many orgasms I give her.

I hope it is enough for her to remember me by.

Then it is dawn, and I wake to find Bella curled into my side. Her hair covers my chest and her shoulder and a good portion of the pillow. She looks happy. Content. I kiss each eyelid and then her lips softly as my chest aches.

I have to leave before the lies start coming out of her sleeping mouth.

I slip out of my old bed and pull on last night's clothes. With one final glance at the dark angel sleeping so soundly and a whispered "I love you," I close the door behind me, intent on reaching my car that is parked out front as quickly as possible.

For the first time since our accidental and awkward meeting in our freshmen year, I'm doing the leaving.

August 16, 2004

On my very first weekend away at college, Bella Swan ends up in my bed.

Oh, how I wish that it's as sexy as it sounds, but it's not seduction or lust. It's simply a miscommunication. When you are drunk and new to the dorms, it is really easy to wind up in the wrong room.

Unlike my fellow eager young freshmen, I opt to stay in on a Friday night. It's an odd decision to most I suppose, and my twin sister called me an anti-social douche bag, but I have little interest in partaking in the overindulgence common of people my age. It doesn't appeal to me. A scantily dressed co-ed invited me to a frat party but that's definitely not my thing. And though Alice calls me crazy for deciding to not participate in the desperation of making new friends during the first weeks at school, I can't bring myself to regret the decision to stay in.

If I had gone out, I might have missed her.

And it's not like I'm completely alone. I met some equally shy, awkward, geeky students and we played a little ping pong and watched a movie before calling it an early night.

I nearly fall out of bed when my door slams open, abruptly bringing me back from the verge of sleep. Not that I'm the least bit upset about the bedtime interruption because in stumbles the single most attractive and engaging creature I've ever seen in my 18 somewhat sheltered years of life.

Even in the dark, she's glorious.

She stands, illuminated by the light flooding in from the hallway. Her dark, voluminous hair curls haphazardly around her head. Her painted red lips pout and her eyes are closed as she attempts to steady herself against the doorframe. Her hot, tight little body is clothed in a tiny scrap of black material that passes for a skirt and an equally form-fitting long sleeved black shirt. Her creamy legs go on forever and she stumbles into my room in chunky combat boots, allowing the door to slam behind her.

Thank God I neglected to lock it.

She exhales loudly, dropping her bag by the door. She crosses her arms over her chest and yanks on the bottom of the shirt, attempting to remove it. Something goes wrong however, because it gets stuck over her head. Her arms are trapped above her head, which is also obscured by the shirt, and she blindly trips around the room, toppling the recently alphabetized textbooks on my shelf.

Giggling manically, she spins around the room before her boot catches on my bedside table and she lands directly on top of me.

"What do we have here?" Her voice, even muffled by the shirt, is almost as sexy as her long, flat stomach and the beginnings of her black bra peaking at me. "Someone in my bed."

"Uh… um… actually… uh…" I stutter, losing my train of thought completely as she kicks off her boots and climbs onto my lap, giving me an even better view of her gorgeous body.

I'm pretty sure I fall in love in that moment.

"Oh, you feel nice," she slurs. "Urg." She thrashes around, continuing to struggle against the offending garment. "Get this motherfucker off me you cocksucker."

It seems my angel had a bit of a potty mouth.

"Uh…. Mumph." My mouth moves, but nothing comprehensible comes out. I do what she told me to anyway, sitting up and assisting her, until we both manage to detangle her. Finally, her head pops out and she tosses the shirt aside.

"Whoa, you're pretty. Where the hell did I find you?" She sways above me, straddling my lap, an absolute vision. Her dark chocolate eyes, rimmed with too much black make up, watch me intently. Despite their hazy, drunken lack of focus, I can see the intelligence there.

"Um, you found me here, in um… my bed."

"You're sooo pretty," she continues to slur as she brings her fingertips to my jaw. I shudder under her touch.

Yup, I'm definitely in love.

I've had very little experience with girls. Alice blames this on what she called my outdated Victorian morality. I don't think a respect for women and a desire to be in love was outdated. Alice also doesn't know that I broke up with my one and only girlfriend in high school after letting the overly aggressive Tanya get me drunk and steal my virginity. That whole horrible debacle put me off girls for a while.

Until she barged into my room.

I sure as hell don't feel Victorian in that moment.

"My Adonis," she giggles, rolling her hips and causing me to groan. "Are you this chiseled everywhere?"

I whimper a little and try to focus on how obviously wasted she was.

College isn't supposed to be like this for me. I want to learn, not get hammered and have random, faceless, nameless sex. I have goals, hopes, dreams.

"Edward, not Adonis," I manage to choke out.

Upon arriving at the University of Colorado, I became very aware of the fact that I'm good looking. Well, I've always had some understanding of this. But everyone has known everyone forever in Forks. My pretty face had long ago been forgotten, and the only thing my peers see is my big, know-it-all brain. I lived in the shadow of my social butterfly twin sister and super jock big brother.

I didn't think college would be any different, but already I've received a lot of attention for my green eyes, weird colored hair, and general pleasing appearance.

"Edward," she purrs as she continues to rock above me, further provoking my growing hard-on. "Humm."

Her gaze scorches me, and she slowly lowers her face to mine. Inch by inch, she closes in on me, while my brain screams at me that this was wrong.

She's drunk.

I don't even know her name.

She's really drunk.

I don't do stuff like this.

"Pretty Adonis, in my bed," she murmurs, so close now that I can feel her breath on my lips. I'm a moment away from not caring about anything but the feel of her against me, but then her eyes flutter closed and she collapses against my shoulder, cuddling into my neck.

She falls asleep, and I exhale in relief.

What the hell just happened?

If this is really what college is like, I honestly don't know if I can handle it.

My older brother, Emmett first showed interest in CU because of its party school reputation. He was sold when he met fellow applicant Rosalie on a campus tour. They've been together for a year. I'm more interested in the pre-med program. Alice, never one to be left behind, followed us both east.

Alice and I opted to live in the same dorm. It was mostly at her insistence that I needed someone to look out for me, but I know she is just as freaked out about starting over half way across the country as I am.

Our parents, Carlisle and Esme, are thrilled with the convenience of visiting us all in one place.

We moved in two days ago. It's Friday night now and school is to start on following Monday. My roommate seems cool, a tall Texan who really enjoys his pot, and is studying history. Tonight, he has big plans to seduce some chick he met at an orientation event. He assures me she has hot friends and invited me to come but I passed. I was looking forward to the alone time.

This is much better. My arms naturally came around the girl's narrow frame and we lay close in my small twin. I glance over at Jasper's empty bed across the small room.

If I'm really the gentleman I claim to be, I would relocate to the empty bed. But she feels so nice against me and the thought of separation makes my heart hurt.

I fall asleep debating the merits of each option.


	2. Good Mornings, Nice to Meet Yous

**Hi there! I know this took forever to post and I'm very sorry about that. But finals are coming up, so the next update might take as long as three weeks, just to let you know.**

**As always, THANK YOU TO INFINITY AND BEYOND FOR READING.**

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December 21, 2010

I write it all down. That's what I do; that's what I have always done. Even after pulling a Renee and getting the fuck out of Boulder, Colorado, I care more then he will ever understand, and so I write it all down.

I didn't mean for him to love me, and I certainly didn't mean to love him back.

At least I made it until graduation. I finished my creative writing major and my English lit minor a semester early before I left my home.

I'm more like my mother then I'm willing to admit.

A long time ago, he wanted to marry me. He wanted me to move in with him. He wanted forever. He said he could feel me slipping away and he wanted to save me, love me, fix me.

Silly boy. I told him when we were eighteen, that I'm beyond fixing. I will never be what he deserves. I will never be good enough to hold him. It would've only been a matter of time before he figured it out and left me too.

Because everybody leaves eventually— myself included.

It was part self-preservation. Commitment and forever freak me the fuck out. But I left for Edward too. I would ruin him, and he's so kind and good and smart. He needs someone worthy of him.

He was willing to put off med school for me.

So I left.

He hates me now, I'm sure. I certainly do not hate him.

My time away has been half self-destruction, half healing. I hope that once I explain, once he knows everything, he will forgive me. While I was away, I learned that I'm not Renee. She constantly feels the urge to wander. The entire time I was gone, it felt like there were giant elastic bands around my heart, pulling me back home to Boulder. The closer I get to home, the more the pressure eases.

I don't know exactly what I want or how to go about getting it, but I know that I'm done trying to live without Edward Cullen.

I try his apartment in Lodo first. The neighborhood in downtime Denver is hip and not somewhere I thought Edward would live. Though I was fairly out of touch with everyone, I still had my contacts. It was Angela who gave me his address. He lives here with Ben now. I don't like that even this has changed, but Denver is only thirty miles from home, so it really isn't that big of a deal.

Ben opens the door, and gapes at me in shock. I smile at him, and affectionately muss up his hair.

"'Sup, dude?" I say in greeting as I try to get a glimpse of my boy in the apartment. I long to see him and touch him, but I can't feel his presence. It's hard work to keep my face chipper while I internally freak out. I worry that it's too late. The shivers are gone. If my trip had its desired effects of severing this connection once and for all, I might die on the spot.

"Holy shit, Bella." Ben's voice is pleasant, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. We were never particularly close, and he's obviously Edward's friend first. "I can't believe… we never thought you… he isn't here."

I'm partly disappointed that I will have to wait longer to see him, but mostly I feel relief that the shivers aren't necessarily lost forever.

"Can I wait?" I spent the majority of the last three days on a bus and could really use a nap. The leather couch behind Ben is very appealing.

"I don't think he's planning on coming home tonight," Ben says, looking uncomfortable.

My heart and stomach both disappear. I lock my knees to keep from swaying and clench my jaw to keep from vomiting.

Does Edward have a girlfriend? Did my plan work? Did he move on? Oh God, please let me have failed. I'll do something crazy if I see a woman's hands all over him.

"Jake's having a party," Ben rushes to explain, as I no doubt turn green. "I think Edward will just end up crashing in Boulder."

It looks like I will be braving one more bus ride this evening. I don't mind at all because I will finally be going home. The tension in these elastic bands pulling on my heart will finally ease.

It's the longest thirty minutes of my life. Finally the bus climbs the final hill before making the decent into Boulder Valley. During the day, the whole town is on display with the towering mountains behind it. I close my eyes and picture it.

I go to Billy's first. The man who basically saved my life is asleep, but I still have my key. I drop the duffle that contains all my worldly possessions on the couch and take in the familiar surroundings for a moment before I leave again. With a final fond glance at my ancient Chevy parked at the side of the house, I set off for Jake's.

The house is throbbing and alive with activity. People are everywhere, drunk, wild, and celebrating the end of the semester and the beginning of the holiday season. I slip in unnoticed, glad that no one I know stops me.

There's only one man I want, and I feel him before I see him.

The elastic bands have not relaxed completely, even though I am home, and I let them pull me to the living room. Excitement explodes in my chest when I take in the bronze-penny hair and outline of his back in a flannel shirt.

I revel in my wholeness, silently observing him. I've yet to see his face, and already I'm complete. I'll never leave him again. I hope it's not too late.

And then I notice the little whore fluttering all over my boy.

I could leave again, disappearing without him being any the wiser. If he's happy now, without me, I can do it. But I can see by his rigid posture that he's not down with the attentions of the fake blonde at his side.

I gave up all rights to him the moment I first stuck out my thumb on I-25 two years ago, but that doesn't change the surge of irrational jealously and possessiveness I feel.

I should never have left him.

The need to touch him is overwhelming, so I do. With a tentative hand on his shoulder, I glare at the slut next to him as he relaxes under my touch. He still doesn't look at me, and I can tell by the slight sway in his shoulders that he's drunk.

Good. Alcohol can only make this easier.

I dispatch the blonde with ease before finally turning to face him. His green eyes are closed but his face is serene. I melt inside and try not to cry. My heart hurts with how much I miss him.

I can tell by the faces he makes as I talk that he desperately wants to remain unaffected by my reappearance. But he has never been able to pull off apathy.

I prey he doesn't totally hate me as I grab his hand and pull him outside. I need to get him away from Jake, who doesn't look happy to see me at all. In the back of my mind, Jake's anger registers as fucking weird, but I am too focused on Edward's hand in mine to care about anything else really.

The snow on the ground is lovely, and I don't even mind that the cold and wet has seeped into the toes of my sneakers.

So far, he has only said my name quietly to himself. His lack of communication makes me nervous. I thought he would be angry. I thought he would yell and rant and rave, and I would calm him down with really great sex before telling him all about my travels. I have written out the script for our reunion a thousand times in the last two years. In each, he always starts enraged. He is soothed by make-up sex, and after he wraps me in the safety of his arms and tells me he loves me.

His silence, combined with the fact that he has yet to touch me, makes me think I'm too late.

He asks me if I have fucked anyone, and I don't answer. Stupid questions don't deserve answers.

I'm so relieved when he finally pulls me to him and kisses me. I've lived off the memory of his last kiss for too long and he breathes life into me again.

I can kiss Edward for the rest of forever. For the first time, such thoughts and desires don't scare me out of my skin.

Somehow, we're back to the house on Goss, and we're in his bed and he's inside of me. It's like two years never happened. He makes me come over and over again and I know that everything will be all right.

This man loves me and always will. I know that I have fucked up in the past. I know that I have made a thousand mistakes regarding our relationship. But I'm done denying us. I'll find away to make it up to him, but for now we just need to physically reaffirm our love.

I drift off, thinking of everything I want to say to him in the light of day. There have been very few words between us, but he has to know how I feel. Never before I have I let him make love to me like that. He has to know that I have changed.

I wake up naked and alone in a big, cold bed.

Nothing of Edward or I remains in this room. Even the sheets and pillows are different. In the light of day, it looks like we never existed here at all.

Edward is gone, and for the first time I understand the enormity of the choice I made to leave two years ago. I feel what Edward felt, and I know that there will be no getting back to where we once were.

I stare vacantly at the unnaturally blank walls of Edward's old room as my heart breaks, I retrieve the battered leather bound notebook Edward gave me for my twentieth birthday from my purse, writing desperately.

There has to be a key to getting Edward back hidden somewhere in our past. So I keep writing it all down. I always write it all down.

August 16, 2004

It is pretty much a total fucking miracle that I even fucking made it to college in the first place. I have the brains and the grades, just not the monetary means or the stable family life.

But then my mom came back to Boulder, married to the endlessly rich Phil.

I don't want to take his money and I don't want to forgive Renee for her many sins, but I've always dreamed about going to the college that resides on the hill above my neighborhood and there is no way that is going to happen without letting her back into my life.

A college education is precious to me. Which is why I resolved to not fuck it up with what Jake calls my 'usual antics'. That means less booze, less pot, no drugs, and no random fucks.

I'm thrilled to see that all my declarations for self-improvement lasted all of one fucking day.

One day after move in and I already I'm waking up to a strange body. Light is flooding in from somewhere, burning my retinas even before I opened my eyes. The last thing I remember from the night before is getting drunk at Sam's, fighting with Jake, and leaving mad with a flask full of tequila for the road.

Shit, this boy feels nice. My head is pillowed on his shoulder, content in the circle of his arms. Normally I peace out right after the dirty stuff and when I do stay there is definitely not cuddling. Bella Swan is not a fucking cuddler.

The absurdity of it all is enough motivation for me to open my eyes and shuffle away from the warm body next to me. I sit with my back against the wall and look down at the latest to get in my pants.

Goddamn, he is absolutely gorgeous. I give drunk Bella a high-five in my head. Usually that slutty bitch is not so discerning.

Unique and entrancing bronze hair, (I always did have a thing for the gingers) straight aristocratic nose, long eyelashes, and a perfect chiseled jaw. He looks so peaceful and young and innocent and good.

Except he isn't a fucking prince charming, he is a douchy college freshman who didn't mind fucking a girl who is completely black out wasted. Asshole.

Suddenly rip roaring mad, I poke him in the cheek, determined to get some answers.

"What the—" he mutters after 4 solid pokes. He opens his eyes and his jaw drops when he takes me in, glaring down at him.

This whole thing is such a departure from protocol for me- the spending the night, the cuddling, the waking him up. Normally I would tip toed out of her, disappearing into the bright Colorado morning.

Something about how good it feels to be held by him combined with his deceptive nice guy looks is causing me to act like a crazy person.

"Who the fuck are you," I sneer. "And did I at least enjoy it?"

He just continues to gape at me, the shock apparent in his moss green eyes. Damn, they are pretty.

"I—Uh—"

"Come on Adonis," I encourage, snapping my fingers. "I gots places to be."

"It's Edward actually," he finally manages to sputter at me. Even with his nerves, his voice is like velvet and has my traitorous lady bits a flutter. "And there was nothing to enjoy."

I simply raise an eyebrow. What the fuck does that mean?

"I uh… we didn't... nothing happened."

"Then how did I end up half naked in your bed, Edward?" The bed is really tiny and even from my sitting position, our legs overlap.

"I think you thought this was your room last night," he explains in one rushed breath. "You stormed in, took off your shirt, and climbed into my bed."

"Huh." That is just fucking excellent.

"Nothing happened and then you fell asleep and I just didn't know what else to do. I didn't touch you, I swear."

Aw, he is so nervous and adorable. Perhaps he truly is the gentleman I originally pegged him for. I can't help smiling at him for a moment and he smiles back. But we seem to be having some sort of moment and that simply will not do.

Bella Swan doesn't do emotions or feelings or any of that relationship crap. Period.

"Well, this is embarrassing," I announce, crawling over him and hopping out of bed. I glance down at my body, glad that at least I'm wearing a nice bra. My itty bitty mini skirt has ridden up and is resting around my belly button. A whole lot of skin is exposed and I catch Edward staring before he awkwardly clears his throat, looking away.

Sighing heavily, I yank the skirt roughly down my hips. I locate my shirt and spend far more time right-siding it then I would have liked. I can feel the intensity of Edward's stare and it's making me uncomfortable.

This is so fucking embarrassing. My cheeks seem to be eternally glowing and I hope he doesn't notice.

"Listen, thanks for letting me crash here. Sorry about that. I'm sure I was a drunken mess last night, if the pounding in my head is any indication." I'm pleased that I sound unaffected when in reality, I just want to fall over and die from the mortification of it all.

Stupid, fucking, idiot drunk Bella.

Edward sits up, swinging his legs off the side of his bed. He's wearing only a pair of drawstring pants and I take a moment to enjoy the view of his long, lean torso, sculpted abs, and delicious v cut that is probably my favorite thing about the opposite sex.

I am momentarily sad that drunk Bella didn't get any last night, but then I chastise myself for breaking my own fucking rules.

"No problem," he replies, looking uncomfortable as I finally pull my shirt on and move to locate my shoes and purse.

"And thank you for not…" I pause, choosing my words carefully. He seems too nice and sweet, if not somewhat sheltered. "Taking advantage. I really appreciate it. I'm glad I wandered into your room and not the room of someone less… gentlemanly."

His face blooms into an absolutely panty dropping, crooked smile and for a moment I wish I could stay.

"I am glad of that too," he replies quietly.

We look at each other for a moment before I find myself getting all soft. I have to fucking get the fuck out of here; already he makes me feel too much. I must still be a little drunk.

"Right," I say, stepping into my boots and shouldering my bag. "Thanks again Edward. Have a good life."

I turn to leave, but before I reach the door Edward is in front of me, blocking my escape route. I look around the room, noticing that it is the same layout as my own dorm room that I have yet to spend the night in.

"Yes Edward? Can I help you with something?" I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm and distain as I glare at him.

"What is your name?"

I sigh, trying to find a way around him. But he has a good foot in height on me and is much wider. I ain't leaving unless he lets me. I don't like this at all, but the guy has been really decent to me. Even if he didn't relocate to the empty bed in the corner. Plus, the University of Colorado is a huge school. What were the chances I will see him again?

"Bella," I reply shortly.

"Bella?" he asks, wanting my last name.

"Bella Swan, now will you please get the fuck out of my way? I wouldn't want to impose on your hospitality any longer."

"Bella Swan," he says, smiling as he extends his hand to mine. I place my fingers in his and he raises my hand to his lips. What a little charmer. I 'm not used to shit like that and it has me blushing. Dammit. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Edward Cullen."

Holy fucking shit, we are having another moment. I need to get my bitch on and make it clear that I will never be seeing him again.

"Right. Can you please fucking move now?"

"Have breakfast with me."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please? You owe me for providing shelter."

"I really shouldn't…"

"Bella Swan, I just want the opportunity to get to know the woman who spent the night in my bed. Is that so crazy?"

Yes, it's fucking crazy. Boys, aside from the pack I've known since I moved to Boulder at age 11, never want to get to know me. Unless it's in the biblical sense, of course.

This Edward fellow is dangerous. He has me balking. He has me wanting to talk to him. And though my brain is screaming at me to abort, I really, really wanted to stay with him, even if it's only for a while longer.

And that alone is the very reason why I have to get the fuck out of here.

"Please?" He is begging me with his eyes as well and has somehow managed to bring his face close to mine without my noticing. My eyes jump to his lips and I blush a-fucking-gain.

I am just about to tell him to go fuck himself when suddenly the door behind him opens, smacking into Edward's back, and sending him flying into me. We both go down like a ton of bricks, limbs intertwined, foreheads clunking together. His hips land in the cradle of my thighs and all of our goodies are perfectly lined up. We both inhale sharply and stare at each other, lust and electricity crackling between us.

"Damn son," says a tall, lanky boy in a southern accent. "Sorry to interrupt. Way to go, didn't know you had it in ya."

Edward scrambles off me before extending a hand and pulling me to my feet. We stand side by side, taking in the couple now standing before us. My eyes widen as I see the tiny girl standing next to the freaking cowboy. She is very, very familiar, even if I just met her yesterday.

"Edward?" she asks, looking equally surprised as I am.

"Alice?" Edward practically shouts, sounding downright pissed. An unfamiliar emotion I later identify as jealously courses through me. I have to know how they fucking know each other and I feel irrationally possessive of Adonis.

"Edward?" asks the tall boy, looking perplexed.

"Jasper!" Edward growls, looking shockingly dangerous and incredibly sexy as he glares at who I assume is the roommate.

"Jesus," Alice mutters, covering her face with her hands and shaking her head.

"Alice?" Jasper asks, crouching over my roommate, looking concerned.

"Bella?" Alice asks, noticing me for the first time, peaking through her fingers. "Edward?" she continues, looking between the two of us and grinning.

"Alice!" Edward demands, still glaring at Jasper. "Alice is the girl whose brains you were planning to fuck out of yesterday? Alice?"

Alice and Jasper both blush, before Jasper collects himself.

"Yeah, what's it to you, asshole?"

"She is my sister. My twin sister, you fucker!"

Twin. I feel so fucking stupid for my misplaced jealousy.

"Oh snap," I exclaim, enthralled with the soap opera like drama unfolding before me. The yelling is escalating and I watch with avid attention.

"Edward," Alice says, stepping forward. "Will you please calm down?"

"Calm? You want me to fucking calm!" He sputters incoherently for a moment. "I'm calling Emmett."

"You will fucking not, Edward Anthony!" my roommate shouts. I don't really know Alice very well. I've pretty much avoided her since I moved in and she demanded we color coordinate, handed me some sort of 'get to know you' quiz, and declared that we would be the best of friends.

No thank you.

I don't do girlfriends either. They are too much drama. Ever since the Rosalie Hale incident of 2002, I've avoided my own gender like the motherfucking plague.

And though I don't know Alice, I never guessed that the fashionable little thing with the pixie cut and the supermodel wardrobe can make so much noise. I also don't expect her to launch herself at her tall twin brother and attempt to wrestle the phone from his grasp.

I take advantage of their combined distraction and slip unnoticed out the door. I rest my head against it, close my eyes, and pray that my little night escapade has not brought a shit ton of drama into my new college life.

My phone vibrating in my purse brings me back to reality.

"Yo Jakey! What is up, biznach?" I say after digging for a moment.

"Where the hell are you Bells? I'm pounding away on your door and no one's answering," he replies, his voice gruff and annoyed. "We're supposed to meet Quil and Embry for breakfast and we're fucking late."

"Yeah, didn't actually make it home," I say, confused as I do a quick survey of my surroundings. It sure as fuck looks like my hall, everything is exactly the fucking same. It's then I remember that my floor is made up with identical wings, one for the girls and one for the boys, joined in the center by a common room.

This makes me feel slightly better. At least I'm not a complete fucking lunatic. It's an honest mistake. Also, I know exactly how to get back, so that's a plus.

"Where did you end up?"

"Oh not far Jakey," I say, working my way back to the girls side. "I'm pretty fucking close."

"You dirty slut," he says, chuckling. "What happened to college Bella?"

"College hasn't officially started yet, in defense to myself." I round the corner and take in all six foot seven of my best friend, leaning against my closed door. He turns at the sound of my boots on the hard carpet, grinning. We close our phones at the same time and I run at him, giggling as he picks me up.

Jake is my saving grace.

He lived down the street from Renee and I when we first moved to Boulder from Phoenix. My mom dragged me all over half the country when I was a kid. We left my dad in the sleepy town of Forks, Washington when I wasn't even 3 yet. She was restless and we moved and moved and moved. She's such a flower child and I thought she found home with her fellow hippies in Boulder. We loved it here among the mountains and I thrived at age eleven. I met Jake and Renee was giving art lessons. We were in Boulder for a year before I started to get comfortable. After two years, I thought we were in the clear. We never stayed anywhere for more then six months before. I thought we finally found home. But just after my fourteenth birthday, I came home to find our bags packed. We fought for hours, I refused to leave.

Renee unpacked, but our relationship never recovered. She started disappearing for days at a time, bringing home slews of random men, and hosting wild drug induced parties. All the warning signs were there, so I shouldn't have been so shocked when I came home from school one day when I was sixteen to find my mother gone and a note simply saying "I am sorry" wrapped around a wad of money.

Thank God for my truck. I bought it the day I got my license from Billy Black. I've been working in his auto shop for years, earning money and I gave most of it back to him that day.

The Chevy became my new home. When it was warm, I slept in the cab, bathing in Boulder creek like the good little hippy child I am. When it was cold, I snuck in through Jake's window and sought out his warmth. Billy found me naked and wrapped around his son a cold December night and let me sleep on the couch after that.

Things got better. I started to forget that my mother and best friend abandoned me. I hung out with Jake and Quil and Embry and Paul and Sam. I worked for Billy. I got good grades and was determined to graduate high school even if my dream of going to CU would never become a reality. I finished junior year and was well on my way to finishing senior year when Renee came back, married and begging for forgiveness.

I never moved in with them in their big fancy house up the canyon, but I willingly attend dinner twice a week, whoring myself out to get college paid for. It's Renee's way of asking for forgiveness.

So at the last possible moment, I bailed on my plans to move in with Jake after graduation, opting instead to move into the dorms with all the other incoming freshmen and making a few personal changes. Jake isn't happy and for that I'm sorry. I would have never survived without Jake.

My heart has hardened since the abandonment of my mother and I learned the valuable lesson that no one stays forever. The only person I can depend on is myself and although Jake is still a huge part of my life, I know I would be ok without him too. I wouldn't be happy, but I would survive.

I'm obviously unlovable. My own mother doesn't love me, so why should I bother with anyone else?

I giggle as Jake tugs on a stay lock of my wild hair. People often ask me why Jake and I aren't a couple. And we tried it once upon a time, but that just isn't in the cards for us. Fucking is more comforting then passionate. We discovered each other, helped each other learn. But romance isn't something I could wrap my head around and Jake gets that.

He is my very best friend.

"You're a hot mess, Bells," he says as I pull away. "You should've spent the night."

"You shouldn't have pissed me off asshole," I reply, punching him in the shoulder. "I found somewhere to crash."

"I'm sure you did, slutty mcslutface."

"Like you're one to talk, man whore. And for your information, I didn't even get any last night."

"Whatever. I knew all that college improvement crap wouldn't last."

"Fuck you, Jacob. I'm a lady now."

"Come on lady," he says, pulling on my arm. "The guys are already there and I'm starving."

"Where?"

"Centro."

My tummy growls in approval. Centro has a great happy hour menu and you can get a shit ton of food on weekends for less then six bucks if you were able to get there before eleven, something that is usually quite for my friends.

"Do I have time to change?"

"Fuck no, who are you trying to impress anyway?" Jake demands as he leads me away.

I pout in the direction of my door, wishing that I could have managed to steal a private moment. But Jake is right, none of the guys would notice or care. So I follow Jake, happy to get back to a little normalcy and put the bizarre morning out of my head.

* * *

**Review? Pretty Please with Nerdward on top?**


	3. The Aftermath

**I know. I know. This took for-flippin-ever. My apologies. But I should have the next chapter up in the next couple of days.**

**Happy Holidays, everyone. I hope each and ever one of you has a lovely couple of days with the people you love.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 3

December 21, 2010

EPOV

I slam the door to my apartment behind me, almost spilling the paper cup of black coffee all over myself in my violent haste to get inside.

I'm livid. I'm exhausted. I'm confused. But mostly I'm just disappointed that I let her suck me in again, even if it was only for the night.

"Whoa, man," says Ben from his seat on our navy leather couch. With a book propped open in his lap and a mug of tea in his hand, he stares at me in shock. "I guess Bella tracked you down, huh?"

I abruptly stop mid-stride on my way to the kitchen, slowly turning on my heel to face my roommate. "How do you know that?" My voice is low, dangerous, and unfamiliar to my own ears.

"She was here last night, looking for you. I told her you were at Jake's. Should I have lied, man? You look like shit."

"No, it's fine." I plop down across from him in an armchair, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose.

"You had sex, didn't you?" Ben asks, sounding wary.

"Is it that obvious?" I sigh in response.

"Yeah. Have you looked in a mirror this morning?"

I groan into my palms. I'm doing a lot of groaning this morning, just no mirror looking.

"So are you getting back together? Where has she been the last two years? Is she back for good or just visiting for the holiday?" Ben has almost as many questions as I do, but we both lack the answers.

"I have no fucking clue where she has been or why she's back. But there's no way we're getting back together. I have moved on." I lie through my teeth, hoping Ben won't call me on it.

He laughs humorlessly. I guess that's his version of calling me on it.

"Okay, fine. I'm not over it. You don't spend the better part of four years with someone and not freak out a little when they come back. But I'm not a fucking masochist and will be avoiding Bella Swan," I say, attempting to convince both of us. "I don't know what she wants from me, but I'm certainly done with her."

"You aren't going to at least talk to her? What did she say this morning?"

"She didn't say anything this morning. I uh… I sort of snuck out before she woke up." I don't want to feel bad about my less then gentlemanly actions, but everything about how I've behaved since Bella reappeared last night totally goes against all my nice guy tendencies. I feel terrible even though she has done so much worse to me.

Waldo, my ginger cat, snakes around my ankles. I bend to pick him up and absently scratch behind his ears. Really, he's more Bella's than mine. She forced me into adopting him as a kitten during our junior year. She picked him out because he was a ginger, slightly cross-eyed, and the runt of the family. She called him Edward in cat form. He lived with me in the house on Goss because she couldn't have pets at the dorms, but he was really Bella's. "Where's Waldo?" she would ask whenever he wasn't around. She thought it was hilarious. I thought she was adorable.

She abandoned him too.

"Dude," Ben groans, indicating that he thinks I'm an asshole. Leaving her in the morning really wasn't a shining moment, and part of me agrees with him.

"I fucking know."

We sit in silence, staring at nothing and sipping on our respective hot beverages. Waldo purrs in my lap as I scratch his chin with my free hand.

"I've always liked Bella. But she has been really messed up for a long time."

Ben annoys me by interrupting my brooding to point out something so incredibly obvious. I annoy Waldo by ignoring him, and he jumps off the couch with his tail in the air.

"Yes? And?" I ask tersely, hand plowing through my hair.

"And maybe she has finally grown up. Maybe wherever the hell she's been the last two years helped her get better. She has to change eventually."

"Or maybe she hasn't changed at all and is fucking around with me as usual," I reply. Ben winces as my voice gets louder and harsher.

"You will never know until you talk to her," Ben says, a picture of tranquility and wisdom. Typical.

My phone rings in my pocket, making me jump. Hot coffee finally splashes all over my hand, and I curse vehemently. I glance to a smirking Ben who gestures for me to answer. I don't breathe as I retrieve my phone from my pocket, muscles tensed in anticipation of dealing with Bella.

But the face illuminating my iPhone is just my sister, sticking her tongue out at me.

"Holy mother of pearl," she says without a greeting as I answer. "I have Bella snot all over my favorite nightgown, and I blame you entirely."

"Alice," I snap. Ben chuckles at me, and I storm over to my bedroom to get a little privacy. It's very difficult to refrain from slamming the door behind me. "I don't want to talk about it. Wait… snot?"

"She just spent an hour crying in my arms. What the hell is going on?" my big twin demands, clearly upset with me.

"Bella was… crying?" In the six years I've known Bella I have never seen her cry. Not when Renee left, again. Not when her dad died. Even the thought of a single tear leaving those big brown eyes makes me feel like the world is going to end.

"No. Crying is far too tame an adjective. I would say she sobbed hysterically all over me." Alice sounds livid- not about the snot, but about the reason for all the tears.

"Why?" I squeak out. My twin is really scary. I would not be surprised if she made the thirty-mile drive to kick my ass.

"I don't know, my idiot brother. Do you want to hear what I do know? I know that last night a freaked out Jake finds me, saying that Bella is back and the two of you disappeared. I know when I got home, it's to the sounds of my brother and his long lost lady love getting it on. I know that said noise lasted all fucking night, preventing me from getting any sleep. I know that when I walked by your open bedroom door this morning, I saw Bella, wrapped in a sheet, sitting in the middle of the bed, staring at nothing. She looked so sad and lost and… God. That's all I know."

"Shit. This is so fucked up. Did she tell you anything? Like where she has been or what she is doing back?" I ask, desperation coloring my tone.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no, NO! I'm not going to be your middleman with Bella. If you want to talk to her, call her or come visit."

"Visit?" I'm really a stunning conversationalist this morning.

"She's moving in to your old room, if it is okay with you," Alice replies, sounding suddenly very tired.

"It's not my room anymore," I point out. The moronic part of me likes the idea of Bella staying in my old room. "You can do whatever you want with it."

"I know. That's what I said. But Bella wanted me to check with you."

"So, she _is_ staying?" I whisper into my phone.

Alice is silent for a long, torturous moment.

"Yeah, little twin." She sighs. "Bella's back."

After a long, hot shower and a thorough shave, I feel more like myself. More human. My brain throbs with a million different thoughts, and I'm thankful Bella chose to reappear after exams were finished or else I would have absolutely failed.

I cannot wrap my head around the events that have taken place in the last seventeen hours.

She touched my shoulder.

She was at Jake's.

She missed me.

She kissed me.

And then there was the sex. It was the most intense night of my life. Never before had Bella let me in like that. We connected on a whole new level.

I punch my wall in frustration, groaning before I flop face down on my bed. I'm romanticizing sex again. Sex is just sex to Bella. The whole experience with her last night had just been super emotional because I was shocked to see her, I missed her, and I was slightly intoxicated.

The whole evening was so surreal. I have difficulty even thinking about it.

Plus, it was hot as hell.

My phone goes off again, and I reach over to answer it without lifting my head from my pillows.

"Muumph." I tried to say hello, but it came out as an incomprehensible mutter.

"Brooooo." The voice of Jacob Black rumbled around between my ears, reminding me of my momentarily forgotten hangover.

"Jake. Please! Stop booming at me," I snap at him, but I don't think he can really understand me because my voice is still muffled by the pillows.

"Sorry, sorry. How you holding up? Guess who I just had lunch with?" Jake is like a damn puppy, and I find his enthusiasm and yippy voice highly annoying. Once upon a time, I hated him and news of him having lunch with Bella would have sent me in to a jealousy-induced tizzy. A lot has changed. "ISABELLA MARIE SWAN! In the motherfucking flesh. You probably already knew that though. Where did you two disappear to last night? Don't answer that. I really don't want to know. But seriously man, are you okay? I told her to stay away from you, that she really fucked you up last time."

He's worse than Alice, and I'm surprised that he is even letting me speak.

"I'm fine."

"Are you as shocked as I am? Because I was so fucking shocked when I saw her all up on you last night. I thought you would just fall over dead. I hadn't talked to her since… I don't know. June? Yeah, June. She didn't seem like she planned on coming back, but here she is. BEST CHRISTMAS PRESENT EVER!"

"Jake, please stop bellowing," I mumble. My request is ignored. "What did she say at lunch?"

"Oh, you know, the usual Bella stuff. We just caught up. She's back, you know— moving in to your old room."

"Where exactly has she been?" I desperately want to know, but I don't have the guts to just call her and ask.

"I forgot to ask her that. Oops."

Jake is an idiot.

"You are an idiot."

"I think she just traveled around everywhere, doing stuff and meeting people. She said she had lots of adventures. I think you made her sad though, dude."

Suddenly I'm furious. Alice thinks I'm an asshole. Jake thinks I'm an asshole. I think they are wrong. I'm the victim here, not Bella. Bella deserves a little sadness for what she did to me. I'm allowed to be pissed at her, goddamn it.

"I don't really give a fuck if she is sad, Jake. Sad is such a weak fucking emotion compared to all the shit she put me through over years. So if she is a little sad, then good. Great! I'm elated that I made her fucking sad. Maybe now she will leave me the fuck alone." I'm breathing heavy by the end of my rant. I'm violently angry, and my fist knots in my sheets as I try to get a hold on my emotions.

"Dude. That's harsh. You're such a pansy." Jake chuckles at me. He's unflappable to a fault, always happy, easygoing, and fucking annoying as fuck. "Pull your head out of your vagina. You're harshing my mellow."

"Fuck you, Jake," I curse at him, but there is no heat behind my words. It's extremely difficult to stay angry at someone so fucking happy. "Go smoke a tree."

"She's back, man. You're going to have to talk to her eventually." I both loathe and despise wise Jake. He is on the verge of going all hippy sage on me, so I distract him quickly.

"Why are you not more upset about this? I mean, she's your best friend. She left you, too! And you are just welcoming her back with open arms."

"Eddie-boy." Jake chuckles. "She's my best friend, and that is exactly why I'm welcoming her back with open arms. But I get why you have reservations. She totally pulled a Renee on you, and I can see why you're pissed. But come on, man, this is Bella. You can't ignore her forever."

"I can and I will," I mumble stubbornly.

"Dude, even if you decided you are totally done with her, which is motherfucking doubtful if you ask me, you still have to talk to her. Hash all this shit out."

"There is absolutely nothing to hash out."

Jake snorts into the receiver, and my hand finds its way into my hair.

"Whatever. I don't want to get in the middle of it." Jake's statement floors me. My mouth drops in shock, and I jerk into a sitting position on my bed.

Jake and Isabella have been best friends since they were eleven years old. They dated in high school, something that makes me irrationally, violently jealous whenever I think about it. Bella even lived with the Blacks for a couple years. He is fiercely protective of her and really hated me for years. The feeling was mutual.

Miraculously, we've become pretty good friends. It's weird.

The fact that Jake does not rush to defend his long lost friend justifies my position that Bella is in the wrong. Jake will always be there for her, yet he does not take her side? If there even are sides to take.

Confusion, thy name is Edward Anthony Cullen.

"Enough with the Edward pity party. It's the fucking holiday season! You're still coming to Boulder for Christmas, right? Alice's party is in a few days."

"Who will be there?" I ask. What I really mean is "Will Bella be there?"

"The usual suspects, I assume. I'm bringing Leah."

"So that is getting kind of serious, huh?"

"Shit, man. Fuck if I know. She sucks a mean cock, though."

"Jake…" I admonish.

"Bella will definitely be there too. She moved in to your old room and all. That's kinda weird, huh? Do you think that's weird? I mean, really, what do you think about that?" Jake's babbling is _not_ endearing.

"Jake!" I snap, recognizing that I sound just like Bella when she's annoyed with him. "I really don't want to talk about Bella."

"Then what in the fuck are we going to talk about?"

"What have we been talking about for the last two years?"

"I don't know. Not Bella?"

"Exactly. When was the last time you heard me speak her name?"

"Today?"

"Before she came back, you idiot." I wonder if Jake is being purposely dense just to irritate me. If so, he is doing a fabulous job, and I just want this torturous conversation to be over.

"Um… when she left?"

"Right you are, Jake! Well done."

Silence stretches between us, and I am eager to get off the phone. This conversation has exhausted me further, and now the silence is just awkward.

"Well, nice talking to you, man," he says in a rush.

"Yeah, take care, dude. See you soon."

I hang up and flop back into my pillows. It's going to be the worst Christmas ever.

* * *

August 16, 2004

EPOV

"Goddamn it, Edward! It's ringing. I can't believe you're calling him!" Alice huffs, her face contorts in rage when she realizes I'm serious about calling our brother. The Jasper-screws-my-sister scenario is not something I have any idea how to deal with. Plus, standing up to Alice is difficult, and I need Emmett in my corner.

"Shut up, Alice!"

"Why are you being such an ass about this, Edward? Just because your moral compass will guarantees you won't lose your virginity until you are sixty doesn't mean the rest of us don't want to get laid!"

I try to ignore her, but then I realize Bella is missing. Alice seizes on my distraction and snatches my phone from my grasp.

"Or maybe you are just a giant hypocrite. What the hell were you doing last night with MY roommate, hmm?" she asks, smirking now. "If you can fuck my roommate, why can't I fuck yours?"

"WHAT?" The question explodes from my phone, which Alice waves about. Apparently, Emmett has answered, hearing my twin's little spiel, and he doesn't sound happy. Thank God. I really need some backup.

Also, Bella is gone, and this makes me quite gloomy.

Alice pales and slowly raises the phone to her ear.

"Good morning, brother dearest… No, I didn't call you… Hey! Don't yell at me. Edward is the reason you are awake right now… Yeah, you heard me right… No, it isn't like that. You know Edward… Come to breakfast with us… His name is Jasper, and no, you are not allowed to kick his ass… Emmett, you are going to be the best of friends, trust me… Okay, we will meet you there… LOVE YOU."

And that is how I end up going to breakfast with my older brother and his bitchy girlfriend and my twin sister and my roommate who slept with said twin sister.

We arrive at the Village Coffee Shop before Em and Rose after a very tense bus ride. Alice, who has some vision of Emmett siding with her no doubt, is downright cheery. She sits between Jasper and me. Neither of us is willing to speak, and we both glare moodily out the bus windows.

When we arrive at the restaurant, the waitress leads us to a large booth. Jasper and I shuffle around awkwardly, both trying to sit next to Alice.

"Jesus God!" yells my twin in frustration, pushing me down on the bench before sliding in next to Jasper. "Edward, stop being such a prude. Jasper, apologize for talking about me that way to my brother."

Jasper turns his body toward my big twin, putting an arm over her shoulder and a hand on her thigh. I clench my fists under the table and lock my jaw to stay silent. He doesn't look as if he is about to apologize to me.

"Alice. I apologize from the bottom of my heart for ever talking about you that way. It was inappropriate and disrespectful. The truth is— that was just stupid guy talk. I was trying to impress your brother. And I know that we just met a few days ago, but I… really like you, and I hope you like me too."

Wow, that's honest.

Alice stares at Jasper with wide eyes and a big, goofy grin on her face. Jasper has just succeeded in shocking both of us. And Alice is never shocked.

"Edward," he says, turning back to me, though Alice continues to stare at him adoringly. "I apologize for my lewd language. I really do care about your sister, and I plan on treatin' her real nice."

I just nod, having no idea what else to do.

The two of them go back to staring devotedly at each other for way too long. It is very uncomfortable for me, and I glance repeatedly over my shoulder, hoping my oversized brother will appear.

Eventually, Alice clears her throat daintily and looks in her lap for a moment, before turning back to me.

"See Edward? Happy?" she asks.

I just brood in silence, thankful when I hear Emmett boom behind me, so my response is not required.

"There are the little freshmen," he yells. "Already up to no good. So this is the motherfucker who has seen my little sister naked?"

Emmett scowls down at Jasper, who looks a little alarmed at our brother's size but keeps it together decently.

"Name's Jasper Whitlock," says my roommate, rising and extending a hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I like your sister very much."

Emmett laughs, slides in next to me, and grabs the menu from my hand. "You're a funny fucker. I like you. Did you hear the accent, Rose? A real gentlemen this one." Emmett's scary girlfriend sits next to my brother and glowers at me. I have only met her a handful of times, but her dislike for me was instant.

I roll my eyes as Alice smirks at me. Tinker Bell has succeeded in getting Emmett on her side. Growing up in a house with three kids meant there was always politics. In a dispute, you had to get someone else on your side or you were sure to lose. Typically it has been Alice and me against Emmett.

I thought he was sure to be on my side today.

Stupid Jasper.

Introductions are made, and I stay silent. There are a lot of big personalities at the table, and I tend to get lost in the shuffle. People think I'm quiet, shy, especially if they know my siblings. I'm like that, really. I just don't speak unless I have something worthwhile to say.

"So what is this I hear about even Eddie getting laid last night?" Emmett says, rounding on me.

"Don't call me Eddie," I reply.

"Yeah!" Alice puts in, bouncing excitedly in her seat. "Edward, what the hell were you doing with my roommate last night? Where did you even meet her? She has spent like no time in our room, and doesn't really talk when she is there."

"Nothing happened. She stumbled into my room last night, drunk, thinking it was hers," I mumble into my coffee. "It's not like I was going to kick her out."

"That's understandable actually. You are 233 East. We are 233 West," Alice says, looking thoughtful.

"So you didn't bone?" Emmett asks, his blue eyes narrowing at me.

"No, Emmett."

"So you're still a virgin?" he clarifies.

I roll my eyes as everyone giggles at my discomfort. Rosalie's guffaws are particularly loud. She just is not a nice person.

Plus, it is not like I'm about to correct them. The fewer people who know about my horrible night with Tanya the better.

"So, when are you going to see Isabella again?" Alice asks.

"Isabella? She told me to call her Bella," I say quietly.

"Wait, wait, wait," Rosalie says loudly, putting her hands up and glaring back and forth between Alice and me. "Isabella? Goes by Bella? What is her last name?"

"Swan," Alice says warily.

"Bella fucking Swan is your roommate? Bella fucking Swan is the girl that spent the night in your room?" Rosalie is screeching. Her eyes blaze, and she's truly terrifying. Even Emmett unconsciously scoots away from her.

"Ye… yes?" I stutter awkwardly, not knowing if she really wants an answer.

"Then it's a wonder you didn't get laid, Eddie," she says, her voice dripping in disdain. "Because that useless bitch is the biggest whore in Boulder."

"Don't call me Eddie," I say quietly, clenching my hands under the table. I never would consider myself a violent person, but I have an overwhelming urge to smack Rosalie for talking about Bella like that.

"I take it you know her then?" Alice says coolly, tapping her dark red nails on the table.

"Yeah, I fucking know her. She used to be my best friend, until she fucked my boyfriend junior year of high school. God, I can't even believe that slut got into CU. There is no way she's paying for tuition. Probably sleeping with someone on the board, that fucking bitch."

I don't know Bella. At all, really. But that doesn't stop the crazy emotions coursing through me. I want to defend her honor and protect her from hurt. I want to scream at Rosalie and tell her to shut the fuck up.

"Wow, Rosie, that sounds a little harsh," Emmett says, playing peacemaker.

"Whatever, it's the fucking truth. God, I hate her! I guess you lucked out, though," she said, turning her hateful eyes back to me. "She probably would have given you herpes, Eddie."

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME EDDIE!" Everyone within a ten-foot radius falls quiet at my exclamation. My siblings and their significant others stare at me in shock.

I suppose my outburst is surprising. I am the quiet one. The calm one. The logical one. And for the most part, I am all those things. Except when it comes to Bella, apparently.

I stay silent for the remainder of the meal, and the tension lingers. I seethe at Rosalie's words and plot a way to get Alice to tell me everything she knows about her mysterious roommate.

* * *


	4. Tell Me, What's Your Major?

**Merry day after Christmas! I hope the holidays are treatin' everyone well. This quick update is my present to all you lovely people how are reading this story. Thank you so much for your interest in HH. **

**Also, in the spirit of the season, I think that each and everyone of you should leave a review. Pretty please? They just make my heart soar. **

**I dont own nothin.**

* * *

December 21, 2010

BPOV

Alice finds me naked in the center of Edward's old bed. My chin rests on my knees, my arms wrap around my legs, and I wear the red sheet like a toga with my discarded journal lingering at the foot of the bed. I stare intently out the window, entranced by the big flakes drifting down from the grey sky.

I don't cry until I see the look of absolute pity on Alice's face.

Sobs wrack my shoulders as Alice puts an arm around my waist and pulls my head to her chest. She hugs me, rocking back and forth as I shake and sob. She makes calming noises and I can't recall the last time I cried like this. Alice brings the unfamiliar quilt around us, reclining with me in her arms until we're lying against the pillows.

Twenty minutes later, my sobs turn to pathetic little sniffles.

"I can't believe I'm in bed with you like this." She speaks for the first time and her voice is remarkably untroubled. "There are probably bodily fluids all over the place. This is disgusting."

I laugh loudly, snorting into Alice's shoulder. I crackle away, my maniacal crying now replaced by maniacal laughter. The two of us giggle hysterically, and I'm reminded of a time when we were young roommates, freshman year.

We slip into silence, and she soothingly runs a hand through my hair.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I ask without opening my eyes.

"Oh, Bella," Alice replies, sighing heavily. "He may be my twin, but you are my friend. And it would be pointless for me to torture you when you have done such an excellent job of fucking things up on your own."

I nod, appreciating her honesty.

"How is he?" The words are spoken so quietly, I'm not sure at first if Alice can even hear me.

"Fine, Bella. He's fine."

"Good, good. That's good." I stutter and blush. It occurs to me that Alice probably heard everything last night, and I'm far too conscious of my nudity.

"How are you, Bella?" Alice asks seriously.

"I really don't know, Alice."

"Are you back? For good?"

"Yes," I say, sitting up so I can smile at her. "I mean, I need to get a job and find somewhere to live. But yes. I'm home for good."

"Good. And you are staying here of course," she states matter of factly.

"But… I can't… this is your brother's room." I'm back to stuttering, but really the idea is so appealing. I crave the familiar. I'm grasping at anything that will get me a little closer to where I was before I took off.

"Bella, he hasn't lived here in a year and a half. He doesn't even visit very often. I haven't had the heart to rent it out because I knew you would need somewhere to live. I have been saving it for you silly!" Alice is smiling and adorable and I love her How I survived without her for two years, I will never know.

"Thank you." I'm crying again. "But you should really make sure it's ok with your twin. I've already hurt him enough. I don't want to force myself back into his life. I thought after last night… but I'm a fucking moron for thinking it would be that simple, huh?"

Alice sighs heavily. "Edward's anything but simple. Everything will work out Bella, you'll see."

I make Alice breakfast, and we spend the morning catching up. I learn that Rosalie is designing for an engineering firm and Emmett is doing HR for Whole Foods, of all places. Jasper is teaching history at my old high school while Alice teaches drawing lessons for little kids and is showing her own work in several local studios.

I want it to snow more so I'm forced stay in the Goss house bubble with Alice all day, but I have people to see, sins to atone for.

* * *

August 22, 2004

I manage to avoid Hallett Hall until the Sunday afternoon before school starts. Jake recently moved in with Embry and Quill in a shity little house on The Hill so I crashed with the boys the night after my little escapade in room 233 E.

But tomorrow is the first day of college and people have already started to congregate to party at Jake's. I crave the quiet, and Jake's is always so fucking loud,. It's going to be real difficult, balancing my old friends with my new status as college kid. It's weird already and I have to get out of that house. There's nowhere to go except back to my dorm.

And my roommate, whose brother I accidently slept with Friday night.

The part that is really fucking freaking me out is the sleeping. We just slept. That's it. And I was wasted. And he wasn't. And then… I don't know. He flusters me, and I hope never ever see him again.

Except we live on the same floor. And his fucking twin sister is my roommate.

I pause in front of room 233W (trying not to think of the occupant of room 233E), steeling myself for the awkwardness that is sure to follow.

Alice has already annoyed the ever-loving piss out of me.

She is bubbly and perky and loud. And she fucking hugged me when I arrived to move my shit in on Friday.

Hugged me.

Hugged _me_.

She squeaked my name, bounded off her bed, wrapped her tiny little arms around me, and said that she just knew that we would be the best of friends. Jake and Embry, who helped me haul my few belongings into my new home, left real quick after that.

Right.

I don't really hang out with girls at all. I'm much more comfortable with my boys. They know me, don't judge me, and most importantly, they just let me be. They are easy.

Taking a deep breath, I unlock the door and step apprehensively into the small room that I will be sharing with the perky midget for the next 9 months. I'm met with silence, which is weird because I get the feeling that Alice Cullen is rarely silent.

The room is blessedly empty.

I dump my bag on the desk chair and flop down on my elevated twin bed. I curl into the fetal position, feeling sorry for myself.

I stare at Alice's flawlessly decorated half of the room. Her purple color scheme is girly and trendy. Her posters and pictures match. She has a bulletin board set up that includes swatches of fabric and pictures of Alice surrounded by people who really seem to love her.

Most of them contain her brother, a mammoth dark haired boy that I take to be the legendary Emmett, and two beaming parents.

She has so much stuff.

I basically have no stuff, no loving family besides Billy and Jake. My mom is a heartless cunt, and my dad lives on the other side of the country. I barely even know the man.

Alice Cullen's life is colorful and love filled. Her tastes are designer, and I want to hate her for being a spoiled little rich girl. But mostly I'm just jealous. She seems to have it all, and I can't help comparing our material possessions.

She has books and posters of post-impressionist works of art and fashion magazines and technology all over the place and at least eighty pillows.

I have a thin quilt a grandmother I never met sewed, and a fleece blanket with sheep on it. I have my textbooks for school and a new Mac computer that I didn't want to except from Renee. But I didn't really have a choice. I have a couple pictures Jake and me, plus a stack of old journals and my favorite works of fiction.

I have a hard ass attitude that usually keeps me from feeling too much, but even that has been off since I spent the night with Adonis.

I have a closet full of flannel and black. I have motorcycle boots and converse sneakers. Alice has cute dresses and high heels.

She doesn't belong in Colorado, but she does belong in college. I am just the opposite.

I really need to stop feeling sorry for myself.

I have friends. I grew up less then a mile from the dorm. Jake is never more then a phone call away. I can do this. I deserve to be here just as much as they pansy ass, rich girl types. I don't give a fuck if the rest of the girls on my floor are just like Alice Cullen and therefore sure to hate me.

Well fuck them. I am Bella fucking Swan and I don't need anyone.

Somewhere in the middle of my mental peptalk, I fall asleep because the sun is low in the sky when the opening of the door woke me up.

I blink, readjusting as the overhead light flicks on, and I brace myself for the coming onslaught of little Ms. Perky Pants.

"Hey," Alice says, smiling slightly. "Sorry, I didn't see you. Did I wake you?"

"No, it is fine. I guess I just dozed off," I reply, feeling awkward.

Alice nods, moving to her crazy, organized closet. She slips off her insanely high black heels that probably cost as much as my truck. She picks up the shoes, placing them on the rack in her closet, making sure all the pairs were exactly lined the fuck up.

Wow, some one was a wee bit anal.

At least she isn't chattering away at me or hugging me or trying to color coordinate shit today.

I wonder if she's mad at me. I wonder what her brother told her. I wonder if she thinks I'm a slut.

She really wouldn't be that wrong.

And Alice still hasn't talked to me.

Not that I fucking want her to. I don't like her. She is annoying, a bouncy rich girl with no substance or redeeming qualities. It's good that she finally figured out that we won't be friends.

Still half asleep, I watch as Alice bustles about the room, tidying even though her half of the living space is spotless. With tiny fucking fists on her tiny fucking hips, she surveys the area, nodding once to herself, before pulling a sleek, black portfolio out from under her bed. She sits cross-legged in the center of our room on the carpet, bringing a large sketch pad into her lap and tucking a charcoal pencil behind her ear.

I suddenly becomes much more interested in my rich, perky, roommate.

"Alice," I say, feeling a little guilty for breaking her concentration as her head snaps up to gaze at me. "What's your major?"

These are facts we probably should have already discussed but I didn't really care before. Plus, I hate all these boring ass questions freshmen ask each other. The answer is never anything real.

"Right now? Studio Art. But that might change, I mean it's not very practical and my dad want me to go into business like my brother or medicine, like my other brother."

"Fuck that. Studio Art is badass," I say, crawling out of bed and awkwardly approaching her. I wonder which brother is which before deciding Adonis must be the doctor. Guy has science nerd basically etched into his forehead. "Can I look? Do you mind?"

"Not at all! Come here!" Alice grabs my hand and pulls me to the floor next to her. Fuck, she is stronger then she looks. Though not as strong as her brother. They really look nothin' alike. For twins, I mean. He is double her height and width. His hair is bronze and her is inky black. Nothing alike.

Well, I guess they had the same emerald eyes.

"These are only my drawing, charcoals, some color pencils. What I really like is oils. Or mixed media. But that's not really not something I can do in here." She chats as I flip through her sketchbook.

"Are these the Flatirons?" I ask, impressed that she had captured the rock mountains flanking Boulder so beautifully and uniquely.

"Yeah, I did that when Edward and I visited our brother Emmett last year. He's a sophomore now," she explains as I continue to study her work in silence. "The main reason I came here is because it's so pretty. Everything where I'm from is green, green, green. I like the colors here and the textures. Plus, Edward and Emmett can't be trusted on their own."

"Alice, you are fucking good. Why haven't you hung up any of your work in here?" I ask, trying to pretend that she didn't mention her brother, the Adonis.

"Really? You like them?" she asks, beaming at me and clutching her heart dramatically.

I nod, and give her a small smile in return.

"Thanks, Isabella! That… that is really nice to hear. You don't think it would be weird, do you? Hanging up my art in here? It's not conceited or stuck up or something?" Her brow furrows, and she looks at me with concern in her Edward-y eyes.

"Naw, bre . These are too fucking good not to display proudly. You're fucking talented Alice. And call me Bella."

"What?"

"Not Isabella. Just Bella."

My roommate and I spend the next half an hour picking our favorites and planning where we will put them. Alice insists they need frames. It's nice. We chat. Well, Alice chats and I nod, putting in a sentence here or there.

"Oh my gosh, Bella! I can't believe that I didn't ask you earlier. What are you studying?" she asks suddenly.

"Creative writing," I reply proudly. "I might change to English Lit though, who knows?"

"That is so cool! You will have to let me read one of your stories sometime."

"Maybe." My writing is so personal, I have a hard time showing anyone. I know that it's something I need to get over, but I don't like the idea of sharing that much with someone I have to see everyday.

"So you must like to read a lot huh?" I nod. "Do you know who else is a crazy reader? My twin brother, Edward."

Oh good God. Things have been going really well for Alice and I. I thought we were bonding. Though I don't know if we will ever really be friends, we are at least getting along. After spending some time with the girl, I begrudgingly admit to myself that my original judgment is wrong. Alice is kinda awesome. Except for all the Adonis talk.

"Alice. I don't want to talk about your brother," I say through clenched teeth.

"Why not? I know it's a little awkward, but he really likes you! He asked me so many questions about you, not that I had the answers, but still."

"Alice…"

"I know, I know. It's kinda weird, but I think you could be really great together. Edward is… special."

"Special?" I ask, a little alarmed. Visions of me drunkenly assaulting the mentally impaired bombard my brain.

"Yeah. Smart and kind, good at everything he attempts. But he doesn't really like people—"

Smart. Kind. Good. I could never be with anyone like that. I would just drag him down. I'm too fucked up to be with someone decent like Edward.

"Alright. That's enough, Alice. Listen, I don't want to talk about your brother. In fact if we have any hope of being friends, there can't be any talk about your brother. I know he is your twin and you love him and all, so I get it if that wont fly with you, but I just can't. So I don't want to know about your family or where your from or anything like that. Ok?"

That is more then the total number of words I spoke to Alice ever.

And then something very strange happens.

Alice stops talking. Her eyes unfocused and glazed over. She looks like she is about a million miles away for a moment.

But then she snaps out of her trance, beams at me, and agrees.

"Fine. No Edward talk. Now tell me, where do the locals shop? I haven't been inside a good store in days."

Somehow this spritely little rich girl has wormed her way into my cold, emotionally closed off heart to the point that not only do I point her in the right direction, but she manages to get me to partake in said shopping extravaganza.

She says the outing cements our bond.

Shockingly, I like Alice. She's funny and weird, but I still need more convincing. I continue to be wary of anything with the last name Cullen.

I am not a morning person. There is nothing harder for me then just getting out of bed. Once upon a time, I slept in well past noon on weekends but since the departure of Renee, sleep eludes me. I am always up by seven, even if my body longs to sleep later.

This day is no different. Despite the first day of college trepidation and excitement, dragging my sorry ass out of bed is as difficult as usual. Without ever really opening my eyes, I shuck the oversized t-shirt I stole form Jake and wrap a towel around my body. I grab the small plastic crate that contains my toiletries and walk down the hall to the communal bathrooms.

Sharing showers with 20 other girls really fucking freaks me out, so I wear an old pair of flip-flops.

Bursting into the bathroom, I am met with the sight of Alice's butt wagging in the air as she bends over, blow-drying her hair. Grinning up at me from in between her legs, she yells a greeting over the sound of the dryer.

I give her a little wave before locking myself in a stall, hoping the hot water will wake me up.

It doesn't.

After my shower, I blink sleepily at myself in the mirror, brushing my teeth as I listen to Alice talk about how excited she is for her Art History class this morning. It doesn't start until 11, but apparently her beauty regime takes hours to complete. And she is getting breakfast with Jasper.

"You don't talk much," she says, her eyes never leaving her reflection where she is styling her short hair.

"Sometimes I just don't have anything to say," I reply, shrugging my shoulders as I apply my eyeliner. "I'm not quite with the people that really know me."

Alice giggles.

"What?" I demand, irritated that she is laughing at me.

"Well…" She stares at me for a long moment, deciding what to say. "I know you don't want to talk about Edward, but he's the same way."

And now my day is ruined because once I start thinking about him, I don't seem capable of stopping. It's facking annoying as fack.

"Right. Whatever. I'm going to class, see you later, Alice," I say, making my way towards the door.

"Hey, Bella," she calls, stopping my forward progress. "Do you want get dinner tonight? I'm out of class as five."

It surprises me that I want to, and I smile at my roommate that is growing on me so quickly, it should be alarming. "Sure, Alice. As long as none of your siblings are there too."

Alice gives me a scout's honor, and I chuckle as I make my way back to the room to get dressed. I stare blankly into my closet for at least five minutes before settling on a rust colored tank top, jean shorts, and my Birkenstocks. I think about wearing a hemp necklace and feather earrings, but I already look too much like a hippy so I just grab my bag and got to going.

I can't help feeling a little superior as I work my way towards the exit. I know this campus. The red sandstone buildings with their clay tile roofs might look too similar to many freshmen, but I like the cohesive look they give campus. These buildings are familiar to me. This is my town. I'm not a pathetic little freshman with lost puppy dog eyes. I am going to rock this bitch.

And then, rounding the corner right before the door, I run smack into one of said puppy dogs.

Goddamn it, he is so fucking pretty.

Why does the universe hate me?

"Bella!" he exclaims, grabbing my elbows to steady me. He is beaming down at me as if I totally make his day, which is funny because he is absolutely ruining mine. "Hey! How are you?"

"Fine," I reply, pulling my arms away and stepping into the bright Colorado morning. I pull my sunglasses out of my messenger bag and hope that he isn't following me.

But his long fucking legs catch up with my shorter stride easily. "We match," he says in my ear as I march across campus.

I glance over my shoulder, trying not to return his grin when I see that we did indeed have the same Ray Ban sunglasses.

Edward does not look nearly as nerdy as his sister made her out to be. His green polo does crazy things to his eyes and damn, that boy can wear a pair of jeans.

I hate him. Why won't he just leave me alone instead of taunting me with his general sexiness?

If Edward weren't a guaranteed stage five clinger, then I would have to just fuck him out of my system. But that will not do. He is already all up in my business and we just slept together. Just sleeping. This boy is infuriating.

I light up a cigarette to busy myself while I try to ignore him, sighing with relief when that first rush of nicotine hits my system.

"Those are really bad for you, you know," Edward says brightly.

I blow smoke in his face in response because I'm nice like that.

"Are you sure you are even going this way?" I ask after we walk along for a few minutes in silence. Well, mostly silent. I inhale and exhale, he whistles.

Edward fumbles with a map and a class list, his brow furrowing. Sighing loudly, I take pity on him, snatching the list from his grasp. Our fingers touch for a split second, and it's akin to getting fucking electrocuted. I ignore the shivers.

"No way. You have Bio at 9? In Chem 140?" I demand, stopping to stare at him like an idiot and further cursing the universe.

"Yup. Am I going the right way?" he asks, smiling at me.

"Yes," I say, continuing to walk at a less furious pace.

"How do you know?" he asks, sounding suspicious, like he thinks I'm trying to lead him in the wrong direction. Which, is actually a really good idea come to think of it.

"It's where I am going," I reply without really answering his question.

Stupid universe. At least Chem 140 is a lecture hall that sits five hundred. Maybe he won't sit next to me.

Right.

"Oh really?" he says, raising an eyebrow at me. "That's convenient."

"How so?" I demand, walking passed the student center known as the UMC and up the steps to the chemistry building.

"I like walking you to class."

"This is not a daily thing, buddy," I say, stopping abruptly in front of Edward with my hand on his chest. I continue to ignore the fucking spark, and I glare down at him (I am standing on concrete stairs, two levels above him. Otherwise I would be looking up at him). I need to end this little crush he has going on. That sort of thing is just not gonna fly.

"Why not?" he inquires, tilting his head to the side and studying me like a freaking science project. He gaze makes me uncomfortable, though I can't figure out why exactly. It's like he see too much.

His simple question throws me off so I just glare at him for a bit longer. "It just ain't gonna fly, homeslice," I reply gruffly.

"Come on, Bella," he says, chuckling at me. Chuckling. At me. Who does this guy think he is? I don't like him. "Let's go sit down."

And then he slings an arm over my shoulders, completely ignoring my tough girl routine. It's like he sees through me, right down to my mushy, vulnerable, marshmallow goo center. The place where all my demons camp out. The place I pretend doesn't even exist. And he sees it, somehow.

It's fucking terrifying.

I am so shocked by the whole interaction that I let him lead me into the lecture hall and to a seat a third of the way down.

Goddamn it.

We sit in silence as we wait for the lecture to start. It's not awkward, and I can tell the boy appreciates a little quite, just like me.

He is difficult to figure out. Despite all my bitchiness, he seems to want me around. Edward is bumbling, awkward, strange, smart, and obviously very happy. He, like his sister, is a total half glass full type. I, conversely, am the queen of fucking pessimism.

We couldn't be more different.

I study him out of the corner of my eye, trying to figure out what he could possibly want from me. Unfortunately, Edward catches me staring and gives me that crooked smirk. Blushing, I look away, hating that he seems so pleased with himself.

For someone so obviously lacking social skills, he sure is self-confident.

I try not to smile as Edward makes weird faces at me in an attempt to get my attention.

"Hi!" someone practically shrieks from the other side of Edward, sealing his attention. "I'm Claire! What's your name?"

I lean forward to get a good look at this squeaky bitch. Fake tan, fake hair, sparkly eye shadow, pink polo, and diamond studs in her ears. I instantly hate her more then I hate Edward.

"Uh… Edward," the idiot boy stutters next to me, practically drooling over Betsey Big Tits.

"It's nice to meet you, Edward," she cooes, touching his bicep as he turns bright red. "Are you a freshman too?"

"Uh… yup. Freshman. That's me." Why was he acting like such a doofus?

"What's your major?" she asks. Of course. There are several questions all freshman ask each other as people desperately try to make friends when they first get to college. Where are you from? What's your major? What dorm do you live in?

Blah, blah, blah.

I hate them all. The whole charade is so goddamn trite. Since I started gong to college parties when I was 15, I've been asked them all a million times each. Unfortunately, I too am guilty of asking them back. I've gotten so good at it over the years, I can basically answer for someone without ever talking to them.

"Intergraded ph…physiology," mutters Edward. What a nerd. "Pre-med."

"Wow," she gushes, batting her eyelashes and flipping her hair. "You're like, really smart huh? You know my aunt always said, medical students are an investment." I roll my eyes. Why does this girl think portraying herself as a blatant gold-digger is an effective pick up technique? Although Edward is bright red, so it seems to be working.

"Uh… right. Yeah. So. Um… what's your major?" he asks finally as I lost all patience with the whole conversation.

"Let me guess," I say with a fake, sugar coated voice as I lean forward. "You, dear Claire, are form California, probably L.A, maybe the Valley, but definitely Southern California. You are studying Psychology, because you have daddy issues and you want to figure yourself out. This year you live in Libby, the well-known party dorm, but you are planning to rush a sorority in the next couple weeks. Am I right?"

Claire's pretty little mouth falls open in shock, and a smile plays around Edward's lips.

"I'm from Laguna," she mutters before busying herself with retrieving a notebook from her Coach bag.

"Score!" I raise my fists in triumph, causing Edward to laugh.

The professor calls the class to order, and several pass out syllabuses. I listen with half an ear, keeping boredom at bay by I doodling a tree in the corner of mine.

"That was impressive," he whisper in my ear, referring to my totally ownage of Claire from California. Edward's hot breath tickles my neck, and I shivered slightly in my seat.

I nod and smile in response.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asks.

"It is not hard," I whisper back. "Sorry if you wanted to tap that. I think I ruined your chances."

"I'll survive. I don't like blonds."

I smile down at my paper, trying not to blush at his statements. I haven't blushed this much since lost my virginity under a pine tree at thirteen.

After fifty minutes of pointless, syllabus babble, class is dismissed. Five hundred college kids pour into the aisles and make slow progress toward the exit.

"What other classes do you have today?" Edward asks as we tromp up the steps.

"Intro to Creative Writing and Woman's Lit," I reply.

"What's your major?" he asks, causing me to glare at him. "Ok, you don't like that question. You would prefer it if I guessed?"

"You can try," I say, feigning indifference. Truthfully, I really want to know what he thinks of me.

"Ok. I would say you were from Montana or something, but you are really comfortable on campus so I think you are from Boulder. And you are a English Lit major who lives in Hallett Hall, obviously."

He's pretty good. One smart and perceptive motherfucker.

"So am I right?" he asks when I don't respond right away.

"Close," I say, hiding a smile. Edward has me smiling so much, my mouth might fall off. My lips aren't used to the movement. "Creative Writing."

"Damn, that was my second choice. It was just wishful thinking, I suppose," he says.

"How so?" We get outside and both pull on our sunglasses at the same time.

"Well, I thought about being an English Lit major and I was hoping we would have that in common. You know, a love for lit."

I am about to begrudgingly admit that we do have that in common, when thick arms lift me off the ground from behind. An involuntary squeak escapes my lips in surprise, and Edward looks on in alarm.

"Hey there, college kid!" booms Jake as he swings we around. My feet dangle like a pendulum, and I laugh even though he is irritating me. "Do you feel smarter yet?"

"Only in comparison to you, moron," I yell back as I try to get free. But Jake is huge, and he has my arms trapped, so I make no progress. Instead, I kick backwards into his knees. "Put me the fuck down, cocksucker."

"Not until you say the magic words," he teases in my ear.

I shake my head vehemently, not willing to do that in front of Edward for whatever reason. Jake gives me a good shake in response, and my head bobs around against my shoulders uncomfortably.

"Urg. PUT ME DOWN," I scream as people turned to stare.

"Say it, Bells! Say it"

I go limp in his arms, resigned to my fate. "Fine. Jacob Black, you have a spectacular cock. Now put me the fuck down!"

His laugh vibrates against my back as he finally dose as I ask. Asshole.

"See, Bella?" he asks when I get my feet under me and turn to face him. "Was that really so hard?"

"You are such a fucker," I say as I punch him in the arm. He is so big, he doesn't even appear to notice.

"You know you love me." I just roll my eyes at him.

Suddenly Jake looks to my side, his eyes narrowing into irritated little slits. "Hey buddy. You going to pay admission or are you just enjoying the show for free?"

"Uh…" I turn to see Edward glaring at Jake. It surprised me to see that kind of anger in him, and I find his scowl horrible unattractive as it mars his perfect face.

"Jake, be nice. This is Edward. He's in my class," I say, trying to play peacemaker between the two.

Jake gives Edward a quick nod that is not returned.

"Bella," Edward says, turning away from my giant best friend. "Do you want to go get a bite to eat before your afternoon classes?"

I have to give it to Edward, he is braver then he appears at first. Snaps to him, for even addressing me at all while Jake is there, trying to be intimidating.

"She has plans, dude," Jake growls.

"Bella?" asks, ignoring Jake.

"Plans, Edward. Gotta run." With that I slip my arm through Jacob's and walk away from the beautiful and confusing boy.

I hope that this latest bitchy move is enough to get him to leave me alone.

Weeks go by and the newness of college life turns into a routine full of classes, eating, studying, and partying. Through Alice, I meet several girls on my floor who I don't mind being around. I genuinely like the quite girl who lives in the single next to us. Angela is shy but insightful. When provoked, she has a sharp tongue and processes a dry sense of humor. Lauren and Kate I could do without, but Alice and Angela like them so I don't complain.

It is nice to have girlfriends again, even if our relationship is casual. Most of our time together is spent studying or eating in the dinning halls. On weekends, they go out to their frat parties without my company. I prefer to hang with Jake. Since starting college, I've seen him significantly less, and I know he isn't pleased with me, so weekends are typically devoted to him.

Edward is the one complication in my new life. He walks me to biology daily, and I occasionally let him convince me to get breakfast with him after class. He is genuine, smart, and too funny for his own good.

And then there are his looks. Oh, baby, his looks. Despite his slightly nerdy wardrobe of khakis and polos, he's hot as fuck. The hair, the jaw, the body, the eyes. I'm not the only one who notices, but I try not to let the attention her garners annoy me. Just as I try to keep myself from drooling all over him.

Edward Cullen is dangerous, and I continue to try to keep my distance myself from him.

He seems to see right through my hard as nails act, right to that gooey center, and it scares the living piss out of me. He challenges me, calls me on my crap, and doesn't let me get away with anything.

He is superior, smug, and a know it all, yet it's increasingly difficult to hate him.

We are both unbearably stubborn. He continues his relentless pursuit. I continue to shoot him down at every turn, but it is getting progressively more difficult to deny him. I struggle to keep our relationship purely academic, but some nights in the common room, we do more chatting then studying. We talk books, and Edward tries to get me to open up.

He is a big fat failure, but it is getting more difficult to convince myself that he means nothing to me.

* * *

**I hoped you like it. Let me know what you thought!**


	5. No Rest for the Weary

**Hello!**

**It's been forever. Again. And I'm very, very sorry.**

**Heres the next chapter, I hope you like it.**

* * *

CHAPTER 5

December 21, 2010

EPOV

Even after attempting to calm down with a vigorous gym excursion, I'm still jittery. Bella and I are in the same state. Thirty minutes in my Volvo and I could see her if I so chose. Which I do not. But for the first time in two years, I know where she is. I know she's safe. It's both comforting and concerning.

It's almost Christmas, and Ben flew home with Angela this afternoon. They won't return until after the new year, and I'm lonely. I don't have many friends in Denver because grad school demands all of my time. Now that I'm on break, I don't have anything to do. Normally, I would go to Boulder but I can't handle that yet now that Bella is back on the scene.

I make myself a pot of tea and grab a book from the shelf. I realize that I'm doing things that remind me of Bella, but I decide to ignore this fact.

Just as I settle down on the couch with Holden Caulfield and a cup of Earl Grey, the doorbell rings.

I expect Alice, finally coming to kick my ass; or Emmett who's very good at showing up with a six-pack when I need it. I open the door to Bella instead.

"Sup," she says, slipping off her snowy boots at the door, tossing her leather jacket and long mustard scarf over the back of a chair, and sauntering into my living room like it's no big deal. "This is a nice place, Cullen. I like it, can really see myself spending a lot of time here in the future. Where's Waldo?"

The traitor cat appears, jogging over to Bella in delight to see his mommy. She squeals with joy, scooping him into her arms and kissing his furry head. Aren't cats supposed to be all superior and aloof? The pathetic son of a bitch is already purring, all Bella's crimes forgotten.

Still cuddling with Waldo, she moves through my apartment. I'm slack-jawed and silent as I numbly follow her to the kitchen. She opens my fridge, reemerging with a can of beer.

"Old Chub!" she yells, beaming at the can fondly. "God, I haven't had this in for fucking ever."

"About two goddamn years?" I guess, finally rediscovering my voice.

"Yeah, that is about right," she replies, unfazed by my open hostility. Bella sits at my kitchen table, pops the top, and props her feet on the surface, continuing to pet Waldo with one hand. Her socks are yellow and have monkeys all over them. She takes a large sip and sighs in contentment. "Ah… it's good to be home."

I wrestle with my contradicting urges to throttle her, hug her, slap her, and beg her never to leave me again.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" I demand. She pushes the chair next to her towards me with her foot, commanding me to sit down. I jerk the chair away from her and sit with a huff because I don't feel like my legs will support me much longer. "I thought I made it pretty clear this morning that I don't want to see you."

I'm such a dick, but I can't seem to stop myself. I need her to feel even a fraction of the hurt she bestowed upon me.

"Yeah thanks for that, dick breath," she says, glaring at me as she slams her beer down on the table. It's too cold and too early for beer, but her alcohol consumption is no longer my problem. "I should kick your ass for pulling that shit, but I suppose I deserved it."

"Damn right," I agree, crossing my arms over my chest and scowling at her intently.

"I would think after all the mind-blowing sex of last night you would be less cranky," Bella says in a sing song voice, just to irritate me no doubt.

"Isabella," I reply after taking a deep breath. My voice is low and serious. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Figured we should talk. About last night, about the last two years."

"There's really nothing to say," I state coolly. Bella has this cocky little smirk on her mouth, and I decide that Alice has lied to me about her tears. Tears imply giving a shit, which Bella obviously doesn't.

"Bullshit." Her face, which fell for a moment at my tone, is composed once again into an unaffected mask. "We made love all night long. That's definitely something to talk about."

My heart stutters. Never before has she called it that. Bella's very cavalier about sex. This conversation is a total role reversal for us. As a rule, I'm overemotional. Typically, I want to talk. I'm the one that searches for meaning in every little thing Bella does, but today it's the opposite.

"That was a mistake, partly caused by alcohol and partly caused by shock. It won't be happening again," I shout. My temper has been steadily building all day, and there is no one more deserving of my freak-out than the girl biting her lip in front of me.

"You don't mean that," she whispers.

"How the fuck would you know? I have done a lot of changing in the last two years, you don't know me anymore." Bella has the gall to roll her eyes at me.

"Now you are just being a drama queen." She correctly dismisses my babbling with a wave of her hand. Bella knows me better then anyone. Unfortunately. "I know that you can't make a decent cup of coffee and that your razor has to be lined up with the sink just so. I know that you have too much pride to ask Alice to do your laundry, even though you always end up turning something pink. I know that you forget to eat when you study, that you run for miles when you're stressed, that you probably spent all morning brooding about my return. But mostly I know that you know that this thing between us is not over."

This is the second time today someone has listed the things they know to make me feel like an idiot, so I stay silent and glare.

"Plus, you aren't the only one who has done some changing since graduation," she continues.

Desperately, I want to believe her. I want her to be different now, but I know that she's incapable of loving me and no worldly travels could change that. Her presence is torture at this point, a reminder of what I'll never have.

"Don't you want to know where I was?" Bella asks, reaching out her hand to rest it on mine. I jerk away, unable to withstand the shivers at this point. I want her to leave so I can drink the rest of the beer in the fridge and pass out. I crave the blissful unawareness of sleep.

"No. It doesn't make a difference where you were. That won't change that you left me, with no words of explanation, on New Years! With… with… well, you know with who. You always said I wasn't your boyfriend and you certainly proved it. I guess I didn't even deserve a goddamn note, huh? Instead I have to find out from fucking Jacob! Your ex!"

Bella looks hurt, but I have spent so much time seeing what I want to see in Bella, I can't trust myself to make sense of her anymore. Her departure forced me to stop pretending that she isn't a self-absorbed bitch incapable of really caring for anyone else.

"Edward." Her voice is soothing, and I close my eyes as it unwillingly calms me. I don't want her to have this comforting effect on me, but I can't help but relax. Suddenly, her weight is on my lap, and I stifle a groan as her arms come around my shoulders. "I know I did some shitty things in the past, but you were most definitely my boyfriend, despite my denials. Back then, I was scared shitless of what you made me feel and heartbroken about my parents and unable to believe that someone as good as you could want me."

With my eyes still shut, I feel her rest her forehead on mine as she cradles my face in her palms. Though I enjoy it in the moment, I know it will only hurt that much more when I kick her out. Which I will do. Because I have to.

But unwillingly, her words sow the seeds of hope in my head. I desperately need to cling to the belief that I'm done with her, because if I let her in again, I know I won't survive the fallout.

Her words have their desired effect. For so long, since the beginning of this bizarre relationship, I have been the only one willing to vocalize my feelings. She was so unsure and unwilling to let me in. Putting my own insecurities aside, I focused solely on appeasing hers. I thought I made progress. Through a carefully waged war of knowing just when to push her, I tricked her into being my friend, and then my friend with benefits, and then my exclusive friend with benefits. Eventually, she let me take her on dates and didn't flip out when I touched her in public. By our senior year, we rarely spent a night apart. She initiated dates, let me call her my girlfriend, and only flinched a little when I told her I loved her.

Stupidly, I thought all her issues would disappear if I just took things slowly. I thought that eventually she would marry me and realize she loved me all along.

And then she fucking left.

"I missed you so much, Edward," she whispers against my ear. I mentally chant the periodic table of elements in a vain attempt to ignore her. "You never were far from my thoughts. It just became too much, and I had to see you. I really… care about you, you know."

Care about me.

She has said this before and instead of elation, I feel a crushing disappointment. If she didn't love me after six years, then she never would. Once, I would have been content to know that she felt anything for me at all, but now I want more. I deserve more.

But even so, it's damn tempting.

"Please, baby," she says, placing a kiss on my temple. "Just give me a chance. Please, let's just go back to the way we were before."

Even as the words leave her lips, I'm out of my chair and striding out of the kitchen into the living room. I almost trip on Waldo, who hisses and slips under the couch. My hands fist in my hair, as I struggle to get a hold on my emotions.

She hasn't changed at all. There is no progress with Bella, no forward movement, and no chance of a future.

"What the fuck, Edward?" Bella yells from the kitchen. I glance over my shoulder and see that my abrupt departure sent her to the floor. She's up a moment later, storming after me, waving her arms and yelling.

She has no right to be angry.

"Why won't you fucking talk to me? You stubborn ass, motherfucker. I get it. We all get it. I was wrong! You're the victim! But I'm over this pissy crap so will you please, please just fucking talk to me so we can get back on track again?" She paces around the living room while I stand in the corner by my bedroom door, itching to make my escape but knowing that she will just follow me.

I know, from past experience, that fighting with Bella near a bed will lead to one thing. I have already made that mistake once since she came back, and I will not do it again.

"It doesn't work like that, Isabella. You can't just leave for two years and expect everything to go back to life as usual with a few half-assed explanations and no apologies." I try to keep my voice calm, but by the end of my little speech, I'm yelling just as loudly as Bella.

"I AM FUCKING SORRY, OKAY!" she shouts, hands balled into fists at her sides. My hands drop to my sides in my shock. The Bella I know doesn't apologize. She thinks it's a sign of weakness and a pointless one at that.

"TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE!" I scream back. "I have no desire to go back to the way things were."

"Why not? Weren't you happy, being with me?" It's impossible to determine whether she is more hurt or angry by my words.

"I thought so. But something obviously wasn't right because you left. And I want something more. I want to be loved," I explain, closing my eyes and willing her out of my apartment.

I wait a bit, hoping in vain that she will say the three little words I need to hear. I know if she says them, I won't be able to stay mad at her. But she disappoints me. Again.

"You won't even talk to me about the possibility of getting back together? Even after last night?"

I cringe, feeling guilty.

"Your words are meaningless to me. I'm done fighting, Isabella. It's not worth it." My voice betrays my exhaustion as I glance towards Bella whose face is contorted in pain. I want to pull her into my arms, but I stay where I am.

"Fine." She abruptly spins away, retreating to the front door and gathering her winter gear. "Then I'll just have to prove it to you. Actions speak louder than words," she says, her voice strong even though her hands shake. The tremors are so bad, that she has a hard time getting the zipper up on her boots as she moves to get out of my apartment.

"If you can stick around long enough," I mutter under my breath. I'm not sure if she hears me, but either way she doesn't respond.

I glance out the window, but the snow is falling so thick that I can only see a mass of swirling white.

She rises, boots intact, and reaches toward the doorknob. Again, she struggles to turn it because of her shaking hands.

Cursing her, and myself, I cross the room and slam the door shut with my palm just as she manages to get it open.

"What the fu… fuck?" she stutters, eyes fluctuating between anger and hope. She continues to yank on the handle as she glares at me through her blush, but I keep my hand on the door to prevent her from leaving.

"How did you get here?" I demand, staring down at her.

"The Chevy," she replies, the "duh" apparent in her tone.

"Bella, it's going to be dark in the next ten minutes. The roads are probably icing up. It's blizzarding," I sigh, not pleased about the decision I just made.

"So?"

"So… you will definitely kill yourself driving that ancient piece of shit." She punches me in the arm, her customary response when someone insults her truck.

"So?" she asks again, frustrating me endlessly.

"So you can't fucking leave!" I snap, losing my patience.

"Why do you even care if I drive off the side of the road?" she asks, glowering up at me.

"Don't be an idiot, Bella. You know I don't want you to die."

"I don't think I know that," she says petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest. The shaking in them has stilled.

"Bella, I assure you. I don't want you to die." God, she is annoying.

"Your words mean nothing to me," she snaps back, mimicking my earlier statement. She's the worst apologizer ever and I wish she would just let me be angry with her.

"Whatever. I'm not arguing about this and you aren't going anywhere tonight," I sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"You can't tell me what to do!" she retorts, acting nothing like a twenty-four year old woman she is.

I snatch the keys out of her hand with ease and step away from her, retrieving my now cold tea and book from the coffee table.

"Ben's back east with Angela. You can sleep in his room," I call over my shoulder as I retreat to the peace of my bedroom. "I'll drive you back to Boulder in the morning."

She appears to consider arguing with me for a moment, but ends up nodding her head and collapsing on the couch as I shut the door behind me.

I skip dinner and go to bed ridiculously early to avoid venturing out of the sanctuary my bedroom has become. After all the shared words this afternoon, I can't handle seeing Bella again.

Despite the person in my apartment, I feel desperately lonely. I glare at my door, waiting for Waldo's demanded entry to my room with incessant scratching, but even my goddamn cat has deserted me. My twin let her move in. Jake had lunch with her. Everyone is choosing her over me, but I can't just forget that she left.

With a frustrated huff, I switch off my light and close my eyes, pulling my comforter over my head.

The apartment is freezing. Ben and I keep it this way to save some money on the electric bill. I add another blanket on top of my comforter, wondering if Bella will be warm enough. For a stupid moment, I consider checking on her, but I dismiss the thought quickly. I'm done taking care of Isabella Swan.

Waldo is probably sleeping on top of her. That cross-eyed jackass.

Despite the early hour, I fall asleep seconds after my head hits the pillow. The emotional upheaval, plus the lack of sleep I received the night before, have caught up with me and I sleep soundly.

In the middle of the night, the sound of my bedroom door creaking open partially wakes me up. It's impossible to determine if this is reality or a dream. With half opened eyes, I watch as a tiny figure gently pushes the door closed and tip toes to the empty side of the bed. After a moment's hesitation, she pulls back the covers and climbs in next to me.

"It's too cold," she murmurs so quietly, I have a hard time recognizing her words. "I won't touch you."

I don't like this at all. Our lack of physical contact upsets me so I pull her towards me until my much larger body is spooned around her much small body. It feels so right and familiar; I decide I must be dreaming.

There is a protest in the back of my head, but I ignore it. She feels so good in my arms. As I fall back to sleep, I realize that Bella has been in my bed every night since she came back to Colorado. And I haven't slept this deeply since she left.

* * *

September 16, 2004

A month into freshman year, Bella finally accepts that I walk her to Bio every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. Occasionally, I see her in a study room or she lets me sit with her in the common room, but this morning routine is typically the extent of our time together.

I am fairly positive that she knows that I have an insanely huge thing for her, but she doesn't say much about it. Nor will she agree to see me outside the constraints of academia. I try not to badger her too much about hanging out for fear she will ignore me totally.

"Good morning, Bella," I say, grimacing as she lights her morning cigarette. The girl smokes like a chimney, and it is very difficult to resist the urge to give her all the medical reasons why she should stop. I hand her one of the paper cups I carry. Bella likes spicy tea with honey, and I stopped by the dining hall this morning, so I picked some up for her.

"Hello, Adonis," she says, exhaling a lungful of smoke and smiling as she takes the cup. "You're looking particularly nerdy this morning. I like the glasses."

I push the thick black frames up my nose self-consciously. My contact prescription ran out, and I ordered new ones too late. At home Esme, my mother, takes care of these things, and I feel like a ridiculous mama's boy for forgetting.

"Thanks," I grumble with a frown, hurt that she finds me unattractive.

"Don't look at me like I kicked your fucking puppy," she says with a laugh. "You look hot in anything and you know it."

"I do?" I ask, trying to figure out if she is teasing me. Bella has very few complimentary things to say, and most of the statements that come out of her mouth are sarcastic. Why I can't fall for a nice girl who actually wants me around, I will never know.

"Yes. You really do. I know it. They know it," she says spreading her arms and gesturing to the females walking around campus. "Everyone knows it. Part of me thinks that this adorable, oblivious to your own hotness, innocent thing you have going on is all an act to get the ladies."

"Uh…" She is blowing my mind, rendering me speechless. I flush and beam at her compliments, beyond thrilled that she thinks I am "hot."

"Goddamn it, Edward," she huffs, glaring at me now as she crushes her cigarette butt under her sandal. "You can't look at me like that either."

"Like what?" I ask, genuinely interested in what she sees in my expression.

"Like you would lie down in front of a train for me. Like you want to buy me roses and compose me sonnets. Like you motherfucking love me, that's what," she says, gesturing wildly with her tea in one hand and cigarette in the other.

"But what if I do?" I say, before I can stop myself. Bella halts abruptly, her mouth falling open in shock no doubt. Snapping my mouth shut, I turn to face her in embarrassment. I have basically just revealed the extent of my obsession, despite her obvious disinterest in me.

Do I have no pride?

Still, I can't bring myself to take it back. It's the truth. I grimace as Bella's face changes from shock to rage.

With a speed and strength far too great for someone so small, Bella punches me in the arm. Hard.

"What the… mother… OW!" I yell in surprise, rubbing my bicep and glaring at her. "Why, Bella? That hurt!"

"Don't you ever, EVER, say anything like that to me again," she says, her voice low and seething with her anger. I expect her to be uncomfortable or embarrassed- maybe even flattered. But her fury I do not anticipate so I just gape at her silently for a moment. "I mean it, Cullen. You look like you are about to fucking say something again. Just don't. I have tried to ignore your little crush, but that is just ridiculous!"

Bella is really upset. God, this girl is weird.

"So you don't want to go on a date with me?" I ask, half kidding. I decide that I am already in trouble and might as well go for broke.

"What? No. Fuck no."

It's a blow to the ego, but I try to take it in stride. She does think I am hot, after all. If I was as smart as everyone claims, I would totally give up on Bella Swan. She is rude, vulgar, emotionally stunted, and has zero interest in me. But I can't help it. She fascinates me, entrances me, challenges me, and as much as I don't want to, I love her.

"Edward. You have that look on your face again. Like you are feeling all sorts of stuff for me. I mean it, that shit has to stop or I'll never talk to you again. No more morning walks, no more Bio, no more studying," she has latched onto my shoulders and is shaking me. Touching me is really not a good way to keep me from wanting her.

"You would be failing Biology without me," I say with a smile, trying to play the whole disturbing conversation off as a joke.

She sighs and smiles as her hands drop from my arms. "Fuck. You're right. I guess I'll have to keep you around." She laces her arm through mine, leading me to Biology, and confusing me further. Again, the touching doesn't help change my feelings for her.

"Thank you for the tea."

October 14, 2004

I love Boulder. Since I moved in to Hallett Hall two months ago, there have only been three cloudy days. It's like the anti-Forks, and I don't think I can ever go back to that sunless corner of the world for an extended period of time. Upon arriving in Boulder, I realized what a sheltered, small life I had lived in Forks. Though we did live in Chicago until I was eight, most of my growing up was done in Forks, where people hunt for fun and everything closes by ten nightly. Social options are limited to the shitty movie theater and half-vacant mall an hour away in Port Angeles, or getting wasted in someone's basement.

There are just so many options in Boulder. There are hiking trails to explore, ethnic food to sample, art galleries and museums and bookstores and coffee shops to visit. There is always an interesting lecture or club meeting on campus, and for the first time in my life, I'm busy.

With Jasper- who I begrudgingly started to like when I saw how happy he made Alice- I trek around the mountains, hiking more in the last month then I have in my entire life. With Emmett, I discovered an obsession with Ethiopian food. With Alice, I attend poetry readings and poke around art shows. With my new friend Ben, I joined the pre-med academic fraternity and the Chemistry club. Bella, with her unique outlook on the world and experience as a local, could be an excellent way to get to know Boulder, but if I ask, she would just punch me again.

For the first time, I have a life and people in it who seem to enjoy my company.

I even like living in the dorms. There are always people coming and going. There are always activities and study groups taking place. I feel like I belong, and I'm never lonely.

And though I love my new life as a college student in Boulder, I need my alone time as well.

The Norlin Library quickly became one of my favorite places on campus. I have never seen so many books in the same place. There are so many different areas and rooms to visit or study. Most students opt for the modern, renovated areas that have comfortable chairs and lots of computers available, known as the Norlin Commons. But I prefer to do my studying on the fifth floor of the stacks. While exploring, I came across an isolated little table surrounded by bookshelves on two sides and facing a huge window that provides a view of the Flatirons.

It's my favorite place on campus. My own little secret spot.

Although I love the people in my social life, I am still a complete nerd at heart. My studies come first, and I have an incredibly hard time focusing on school when I am among the activity in the dorms.

So, on most nights, after I get dinner with Ben or Jasper or someone else from my floor, I can usually be found in the quiet of the library, studying far Bio or Anatomy.

One Thursday night in early October, I'm studying physics when Bella Swan invades the privacy of my little library sanctuary.

"Oh shit," she says, startled when she rounds the corner. My head snaps up, eyes immediately focusing on the dark angel leaning against a tall shelf. She looks stunning, even more beautiful than usual. A gauzy, layered, brown skirt flutters around her knees and a dark green sweater hugs her truly spectacular tits. Most importantly, her long, wavy hair is down tonight, tumbling around her face. Typically, she keeps it up, but it really is a shame because I love the way it looks against her shoulders. She is striking.

"Hey," I say, choking on my tongue slightly.

"Of course you are here," she says with a sigh. "The universe hates me."

I don't know how it's possible to be in love with her when I don't know what she is talking about half the time. Scowling like she wants to be anywhere else, she sits down next to me.

"This is my spot," Bella says with a pout, slouching in her chair and biting her bottom lip.

"Incorrect," I reply, trying not to be offended in her disappointment to see me here. I want to spend every moment near her while she can barely stand to be in my presence. "This is my spot."

"I come here all the time," she retorts. "Whenever I want to be alone." She gives me a pointed look. I might be completely whipped by her, but there is no way I am leaving.

"Likewise." I give her that pointed look right back while secretly thinking it's pretty cool that we have the same secret spot in the library. Though I don't totally know how we managed to miss each other until now. "Why aren't you out? Partaking in Thirsty Thursday?" I am nowhere near cool enough to extend my weekends to Thursday night, like many did. And though I do drink on occasion- usually when Emmett is having a party at his house off campus that he shares with Rosalie and their friends, Garrett and Tyler- I can't handle getting drunk three nights a week. I am not a hardcore partier. Not like Bella.

"I did a little partaking earlier," she says with a smile. She mimes smoking a joint and taking a shot as I roll my eyes. "But unfortunately, I have a short story due in creative writing tomorrow afternoon."

"Can I read it?" I ask, hoping her writing will give me some insight into the thoroughly confounding object of my obsession.

"Fuck no," she cries in horror. "I have a hard time sharing with the useless, freshmen strangers in my class. I could never let someone I know read my shit. Not even Jake."

"Jake? That guy you meet after Biology?" I ask, frowning. Jake and writing are the only things that Bella seems to care about at all. That, and getting high.

"Yup."

"Is he your boyfriend?" It is embarrassing that I don't know this. I like to think Bella and I are friends, but her personal life rarely comes up. I thought about asking this question a thousand times, but I figure I am better off not knowing. The knowledge of her boyfriend will crush me almost as much as her constant rejection.

I am so pathetic.

"Naw. Back in the day, we used to fuck. But Jake and me, we're just besties now. Soul siblings." Bella shuffles through her bag, emerging with her computer as she speaks. I stare at her, shocked to hear her discuss her sex life so casually.

The thought of her with another man makes me want jump out the window across from me.

"Right. Yes. Of course," I stutter, turning back to my own work. How am I even supposed to respond to that?

"I don't do boyfriends," Bella goes on. "Boyfriends are for needy pathetic bitches who can't take care of themselves. I don't need a boy to survive, and I don't want the drama of putting up with one. A couple of hours between the sheets is all the boy time I can handle."

I choke a little on nothing at all and wonder what it will be like to be between Bella's sheets. I also wonder how many there have been and quickly decide that I definitely don't want to know.

"You are awfully quite tonight, Adonis," Bella says, reaching over and messing up my hair.

"I'm focused on my studies," I reply with a shrug.

"Bull fricking shit," she exclaims, slamming a hand down on the table and ruining the serenity of the library. "We've studied for bio before, lots of times, and you are never this quiet."

Again, I just shrug. As much as I love being around Bella, tonight the thought of all those boys that have had her while she won't even let me care about her is just too depressing.

"Ok," she says, rifling through her bag again and emerging triumphant with a long, silver flask. "Enough with the brooding. You need to lighten up."

"Bella…" I admonish as she unscrews the lid, takes a long draw, and hands the flask to me. "We're in the library."

"Don't be such a pansy, you pansy," she scoffs, sticking the container right under my nose. The strong smell of alcohol makes my stomach turn. Although I desperately want to please Bella, to make her think I'm cool, I push her hand away in annoyance. I can't let her call the shots all the time.

Ha. Shots. A pun.

"Fine," she huffs. "More for me."

I really need to get over Isabella Swan. She is not interested, and that is for the best because the girl is a total train wreck. She would be a terrible girlfriend and is no good for me. Resolved to move past my ridiculous crush, I decide to ask out Kate, a sweet girl on the first floor of Hallett that really seems to like me. There is no reason to wait and I resolve invite her to come to a party at Emmett's with me on Saturday.

Forty-five minutes later, the flask is empty, and drunken Bella is frustrated with writers block.

"This is the stupidest fucking assignment of my life!" she declares, burying her face in her hands. "What the fuck do I know about romance? I even asked if erotic stories count, and my cocksucking, prude of a teacher said no."

"She's a cocksucker and a prude?" I chuckle, amused by Bella's rant. "How does that happen?"

"Fuck you, Cullen," she says, turning her blazing eyes on me. "You know what the fuck I meant. Hey! You're a romantic. What should I write about?"

"Bella, I'm a horrible person to ask. I have no experience with girls, and the one I do like tends to punch me when I say so," I tell her with a grin.

Bella laughs hysterically at my words, falling sidewise out of her seat and landing on the floor at my feet.

"Thanks for your encouragement," I say with a laugh as I haul her upright. She stands, gazing down at me. The intensity of her stare makes me uncomfortable in the best way and has me fidgeting in my seat.

"What?" I demand, freaked out by the scary look in her eye. It isn't the punching face, but I have a feeling that it signifies something much more painful.

Without breaking eye contact, Bella slowly approaches me, swinging a leg over my thighs and lowering herself to my lap. My system goes haywire and my dick snaps to attention. With hands clenching the sides of my chair, I try not to groan audibly.

"Wha…" I clear my throat and began again. "What are you doing, Isabella?"

She lifts her legs, locking them at the ankle behind my chair, and pulling herself flush with my crotch. I let out an embarrassing sound and bring my hands to her hips, either to push her away or pull her closer, I can't tell.

"Edward," she says, looking at me thoughtfully.

"Bella?" Her name comes out a garbled question as I resist the consuming urge to thrust out of the chair to be closer to her.

"Tell me," she says, pushing her fingers through the hair just above my ears. "Why does a gorgeous, smart boy from a stable home with a bright future fall for a selfish, plain Jane, pothead with no future and the emotional stability of a three year old?"

Even with her pressed against me, I know who is who in this scenario.

"He doesn't," I reply, working really hard to sound normal.

"Oh." Bella looks stricken, and her fingers fall from my hair into her lap.

"A geeky, socially awkward boy with a good, yet somewhat overbearing family falls for a beautiful, hilarious girl with a rough past because she is fascinating, unlike anyone he has ever met," I reply, hoping my words make sense.

Her eyes are so big and vulnerable all I want to do is make her smile again.

"Ah," she says with a nod. "I get it now. He's delusional, sees what he wants to see."

I let out a humorless chuckle, my eyes focus on her mouth. Somehow, it seems as though her lips are zeroing in on mine. In my terror and elation at the thought of kissing Bella, I am frozen.

"Or maybe he sees what she is so desperate to keep hidden," I whisper because in that moment, it's obvious that Bella cares a whole lot more then she lets on.

"Like I said," she murmurs, mere millimeters from my lips. "Delusional."

Just when I am positive that Bella is actually going to kiss me- kiss me- my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. I fully intend to ignore the sucker, but Bella feels it too, ringing under her thigh. Sighing heavily, she readjusts on my lap, snaking her hand into my pocket and retrieving the offending piece of technology.

Wow. Her hand in my pocket.

"Ignore it," I shudder, hoping to get the moment back, but she just shakes her head.

When I make no move to take the phone from her, she flips it open and holds it to my ear.

"Hello?" I say angrily as Bell rises from my lap. I grab her wrist as she retreats, but she shakes me off and goes back to her flask, tipping it to her mouth and shaking vigorously in an attempt to get at the last drop of whiskey.

"You don't want to do what you are about to do," says my twin, talking super-fast. I curse under my breath and fist a hand in my hair. "Trust me, little twin."

Alice was born twelve minutes before me and still I am considered the little brother.

"You are so very, very wrong," I say through clenched teeth.

"Whatever, she isn't going to kiss you now anyway. I have ruined the moment."

"Why the heck would you do that?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Alice, that is some bull right there."

"Urgh, fine. You have to be patient. If you guys made out now, she wouldn't talk to you for the rest of the semester. She doesn't trust you yet."

Sometimes, I really hate Alice's little gift. She has an uncanny knack for predicting the future, and though it's weird as hell, it is something I've gotten used to. Just because I am used to shit like this, doesn't mean I like it. I am just thankful she doesn't see everything, and big stuff has been known to escape her sight.

"Yet. You said yet. Yet is good. Tell me about yet."

"Let it go, Edward. Someday you will thank me."

"I don't think that's true."

"You're right. Anyway, I'm locked out. Come let me in. Please?" Alice pleads with me while I watch Bella type furiously at her laptop. Apparently, our little interlude has provided her with the necessary inspiration.

"No. I'm otherwise occupied. Call Jasper," I suggest, studying Bella as her fingers fly.

"He's out at the bars with his stupid Civil War obsessed buddies from the history club. Please, little twin? It's cold out here for a pimp."

I snort at the mental image of Alice in a purple suit, complete with huge hat, animal print, and cane.

"Fine. I'll be there in five. You're lucky I love you."

"Likewise. See you soon!"

I hang up with Alice and turn back to Bella, not wanting to interrupt her flow, but needing to come to grips with what just happened.

"Bella," I start, having no idea what to say.

"Nope," she replies without looking at me.

"But—"

"Nope," she says again, interrupting me.

"I—"

"EDWARD!" She pries her eyes away from her computer to yell at me. I am thankful to be out of punching distance. "I'm too drunk to remember."

"No you're not—"

"I'm not going to talk about it. Actually, there is nothing to even talk about because nothing happened."

"Something almost happened," I say petulantly.

"Nothing happened. And I'm too drunk to remember anything so if, in the light of day, you open your fucking big mouth about it, not only will I punch you in the teeth, but I will also deny knowing what the fuck you are babbling about. Got it?" Bella goes back to her furious typing and there is really nothing else for me to do.

Keeping my fucking big mouth shut, I begin packing up. Roughly and loudly I slam my books shut, tossing them in my backpack.

"What are you doing?" Bella asks, clearly irritated with me. It's fitting, because I am sure irritated with her. Still her eyes don't leave her computer, and I admire her ability to multitask.

"Leaving," I reply curtly.

"Why?" she asks with a sigh, as if dealing with me is exhausting her. "Because of what didn't happen? What I'm too drunk to remember?"

"No," I say simply. For once she can wonder where I was off to, who I will be with.

A moment passes in relative silence, save for the clacking of her keys and the whiz of the zipper on my backpack.

"Where are you going, Edward?" she asks finally, sounding exasperated.

And because I am Bella's bitch, I tell her. I seem to be incapable of defying her every wish. I want to grasp her face in between my palms, kiss her breathless, and force her to acknowledge the connection between us, but I don't because Bella doesn't want me to change her mind. I am fairly certain that she feels something for me, more then she wants. She just won't want to admit it.

"Back to Hallett," I say, sticking my arms through the sleeves of the wool coat Alice bought me last year. "Alice forgot her keys. She needs me to let her in."

"You are leaving me? All alone? And helpless? At night?" I chuckle at this. Bella. Helpless. Right.

"Looks that way. I hope you survive the scary library on your own."

"Bye, Cullen," she says, turning her attention back to her computer. "See you in the next life."

It's embarrassingly difficult to walk away, but I do it.

* * *

**So... what are your thoughts? What's the deal with present day Edward and Bella warming each other up? And olden day Bella getting all up on Nerdward in the library?**

**Review!**


	6. Distractions

**Hello there!**

**This is chapter 5 from BPOV. Enjoy!**

* * *

December 21, 2010

BPOV

I stand on Pearl Street, people watching on the walking mall and smoking a cigarette as I wait for Jake. The day is grey and cold, and people march quickly between the stores as they rush to finish their holiday shopping.

I haven't purchased a single gift, opting out of the entire holiday because it is just too exhausting.

A hulking form with dark hair and a thick Carhart jacket rounds the corner. I smile and continue to puff on my cig as Jacob Black sees me and tromps on over. He stops abruptly a few inches from me. He stares down at me, and smirk up at him. I extinguish my cigarette, still just standing there in silence.

Jake looks like he is trying to be mad at me, but after a couple seconds of silence we are both grinning at each other.

"Fuck it," he says with a chuckle. "Come here."

He pulls me into his arms, lifting me off my feet, and spinning me around in a circle as he hugs me. Jake smells and feels exactly the same. We laugh together as he continues to twirls me around in the snow.

Our reunion is perfect, but I can't help but wish that Edward had been equally pleased to see me. I really am a naive bitch, for thinking it would be that easy.

"Let me look at you," Jake says as he sets me down. I fluff my long hair under my beanie and pout my lips, placing my hands on my hips to facilitate said looking. "Yeah, you don't look any different. Same old, ratty, homeless Bella."

My punch to his arm is even less effective then usual because of my thick mittens and his puffy jacket. "And you are the same old, stoner Jake. You reek of the ganja."

"I was under the impression you didn't indulge in the blessed plant any more, or I would have gladly smoke you out."

"Right you are. I trying to avoid the substances these days."

"Good for you, Bells," he says, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "So where are we dining?"

"It's not fancy or anything, but can we just go to Chipotle? I haven't had a good burrito in forever," I say, leading us west towards my favorite fast food place. He laughed at me again and let me drag him down Pearl.

It feels so good, having my best friend back. I want to just enjoy the afternoon with him, but this happiness is forced.

It's over. Edward left me this morning. And though I have no right to expect different, I hoped to at least talk to him today. I'm having a very difficult time coming to grips with the whole situation.

Jake and I settle into a booth at Chipotle, chatting about nothing as we dig in. I'm pleased that at least this relationship has not changed. Things are easy between Jake and I. There are no lingering feelings of romance on his part, and it's like I was never gone.

I stayed in touch with Jake while I was away. We didn't talk often, only a couple times a year, but I let him know where I was. That I was safe.

"God, Jake. You are such a pig," I scoff as a large glob of guacamole rolls off his chin. "It's borderline embarrassing to be seen in public with you."

"Now you sound like Leah," he says under his breath, rolling his eyes and stealing my napkin.

"Leah? Who is Leah?" I ask, my curiosity peaked at the mention of a lady. Jake is notorious for his short relationships and heart breaking ways. A total fuck em' and leave em' type. He is me, before I met Edward.

Jake smiles and then actually blushes, suddenly becoming fascinated in the smooth metal table top. I smile back because I recognize that look. Jake is in love. "Just a girl," he murmurs.

I snort.

"Just a girl my ass. You love her." I lean back in my seat and cross my arms over my chest, reveling in Jakes discomfort.

"Woah!" he yells, coving his ears and generally acting like a fucking two year old. "La. La. La. I can't hear you. You didn't use the 'L' word."

Laughing, I pull his hands off his ears because I want to hear more about this Leah person who has my best friend so frazzled.

"Tell me about her."

"She's a total bitch, Bells," Jake sighs. Though his words are harsh, his face has that dreamy look about it.

I've seen that look a thousand times on Edward's face.

This realization has a sharp pain slicing through my chest. My arms wrap tightly around my abdomen, trying to keep the hurt at bay. I wince, shifting my focus back to Jake. He is an excellent distraction, and is so wrapped up in Leah he doesn't notice my discomfort.

"She's hard. Opinionated. Makes me do stuff with her. She doesn't even let me smoke up around her!" he says, indignant.

"Sounds like she's makin' you a better person, Jakey," I say with a chuckle.

"No! I don't even really like her. I only spend so much time with her because she is great in the sack. Seriously, she's a total animal."

"Okay. Whatever you want to tell yourself. But you like her. A lot. It's written all over your big, ugly face."

Jake looks at me in horror.

"You're totally in denial. Believe me, I've been there. It's really scary, letting someone in like that. Feeling so much for someone else." I'm surprised to hear how sad my voice sounds.

"I was wondering when we were going to get to Edward," Jake says, looking equally distraught.

"We don't need to talk about Edward," I say quickly.

"Yeah, we really do," Jake insists, his eyes narrowing at me. "He's my friend, Bella."

"I know." When I left, Jake and Edward were cordial, but I would never have thought in a million years that they would ever be as close as they apparently are now. It's strange, because they once loathed each other.

"You really fucked him up when you left," Jake continues.

His words have the tears pooling in my eyes again, and I looking down in my lap. It's a struggle to keep it together, but there is no way I'm going to fucking cry in public. Fuck no. I'm barely comfortable with that much emotion in the privacy of my own home.

"I know that too," I reply.

As much as it kills me to admit, I recognize the truth of Jake's words. Edward loved me. And I totally disregarded that gift when I left.

"You slept with him last night?" Jake accuses. For once his anger doesn't come from jealousy, but for a desire to protect Edward. From me. This conversation is becoming surreal. Jake is protecting Edward from me.

Every time I think I fully understand the enormity of my decision to leave, something happens to totally knock me on my ass again.

"Yes. It just sort of happened," I admit, my cheeks flaming.

I shouldn't have shamelessly seduced him. I know this. But seeing him again made my brain go wonky. Verbalizing how I feel has never been my strong suit. I've never had to vocally communicate what I feel to Edward. He always just knows. I didn't think last night was any different until I woke up alone in his bed this morning.

"You can't fuck him around anymore, Bella," Jake scolds, glaing at me.

I'm the cowering dog with my ears back, kowtowing submissively after pissing on the living room floor.

I'm the little kid whose old enough to know better, but took a sharpie to white walls anyway.

Jake is totally right and I am an asshole.

"He imploded after you left," Jake continues. He's making me feel like shit and I welcome it because I deserve everything he's throwing at me. " He totally isolated himself, focused completely on fucking school shit. He was like a goddamn robot. Things got better when he moved to Denver for grad school and he me Ti— he met people. But gone is glass half full Edward."

I let out an involuntary whimper and consider on getting back on a goddamn bus. With my one unselfish act towards Edward, I managed to ruin what I love best about him.

"You left him with no explanation. He loved you and you left."

"Loved?" I squeak, looking up at Jake's stony expression. "As in the passed tense?"

"I honestly don't know, Bella," he sighs, his face softening slightly. "You'd have to talk to him about that. But I do know that he hasn't dated, despite ample opportunity."

I had no right to get mad at the words "ample opportunity", but my temper bubbles.

Also, when the fuck did Jake start using such big words? Probably when he started hanging out with Edward.

"I wasn't planning on fucking him the moment I saw him," I defend. "Fucking" didn't seem to cover it, but I couldn't bring myself to call it anything else. "I intended to talk to him first. And then I figured we would just talk in the morning. But that didn't pan out as I planned either."

"What do you mean?" he asks, looking puzzled.

"Edward wasn't there when I woke up at like seven this morning," I say, trying and failing to sound blasé. "He left before we could talk."

Jake looks at me with sympathy and I almost lose it. Sighing heavily, he rises and slides into the booth next to me. His arms around me and I bury my face in his chest. Tears ooze out of the corners of my closed eyes, but I somehow manage to keep my shit on lock.

After a few moments, I pull away and Jake gets serious again.

"You can't get back into his life if you aren't in it for the long fucking haul. You can't fucking jerk him around any more. You have to be committed, serious."

I nod, once again recognizing the truth in his words. Jake is being shockingly wise.

"Are. You. Serious." he demands, looking me dead in the eye.

"Yes," I say, proud of myself for my lack of hesitation. "I'm serious. I need him. I want him."

Jake grins, leaning back in the hard wooden booth.

"Then fucking fight for him. For once."

Jake's word motivate me to get in my truck in a snowstorm and drive to Edward's apartment in Denver.

Old habits die hard, I suppose because I feel the need to act aloof, unconcerned. Edward is not happy to see me, not that I thought he would considering his abrupt departure this morning. I ignore his stunned silence as my heart blooms with joy at the sight of my kitty cat.

Though I've missed poor Waldo like crazy, right now he serves as a shield against Edward. I gather strength from his warm, puring body.

Our talk doesn't go exactly as planned. As usual I fuck it up. Edward isn't the same boy I left, and I worry he's right when he tells me I don't know him anymore. I'm not able to offer him anything real. Why should he want me back?

He wants me to leave, but I make it clear that I'm not giving up on us. My words reflect a self assurance I do not fucking feel. As I pull on my boots, I lose all hope. My hands shake and I struggle not to cry as I imagine my future without Edward.

It's fucking bleak.

But then he slams his hand against the door, trapping me in the apartment and turning me on at the same fucking time.

That last fact is probably shameful, but I can't help it. I've always been hopelessly addicted to Edward sex, and it's especially hot when he takes control.

And then he doesn't let me leave.

My outward reaction is indignant because he is being so damn bossy, but internally I'm thrilled. He doesn't want me to kill myself, driving the truck home in the snow. He cares enough for me still to force me to stay.

With his words, the hope is back, and I try to hold onto it as the minutes tick by. I'm in Ben's bed, freezing despite the warm Waldo provides curled against my back. My eyes won't stay shut, and my brain won't turn off.

Every second is a struggle to stay the fuck where I am. All I want to do is go to Edward. I want him to pull me into his arms, and I want his finger to press into the little dip next to my hip bone he loves so much.

I don't want him to regret letting me stay here. He left this morning and obviously doesn't want to be around me, so I will stay put.

It's just so damn hard, knowing that he is right on the other side of the wall.

As the hours pass, I get colder and needier while the resisting the urge to go to Edward gets hard. I go a little crazy.

At four AM, I give up.

It's shamefully really, my need to be near him. It has me on my feet and sneaking through his fuck all cold apartment. I promise not to touch him, knowing that his proximity will be enough to keep me from totally losing my mind. But it's even better then I imagined, because he pulls me into his arms, and his long fingers find my hip.

Now it's a fight to stay awake. I don't want to close my eyes because I don't want to miss a second I spend touching Edward. Despite the resurgence of my hope, I'm keenly aware that each touch might very well be our last.

* * *

October 14, 2004

BPOV

I keep my eyes on my computer screen so I won't have to watch him walk away. I have watched far too many people in my life walk away, and Edward will be no different. The key is not caring so I will survive when he is gone.

He's rapidly becoming way too important, and I'm rapidly becoming way too dependent.

Oh, how I hate him. Why won't he just take a fucking hint and leave me the fuck alone? Why don't I make good on my threats to banish him from my life? I tell myself that it's because he is the sole reason I am passing bio (that motherfucker is smart as fuck), and that come next semester, I will avoid him, but that future is growing more doubtful.

It's terrifying, how much I crave his presence.

I really cannot drink when he is around in the future. Drunk Bella means horny Bella, and while sober Bella can ignore the sexual tension that crackles between us, drunk Bella is powerless to resist.

When I find him, in my fucking secret library spot of all places, I am already having a shit night. Jake is being a butthead and asking me a million questions about my most recent dinner with Renee. He doesn't believe me when I say I'm fine. He is right, of course, but it's still annoying as shit. I have no plans to discuss Renee's desperate attempts to show Phil what a perfect little child she raised, and I never plan too. The woman is a lunatic,, and if her current husband wasn't footing my bill for tuition, I would tell her to kiss my ass.

Someday, somehow, I will pay them back. I'm indebted to them, and that's just unacceptable. I hate the position I'm in, but really I have no other choice.

Plus, I have writers block. Due tomorrow is a ten page, romantic short story, and I have no clue where to even begin. I don't do romance. I don't dream of getting married to prince charming or swoon when parted lovers reunited in chick flicks. Roses bore me, as do balloons, candy, and other stereotypical date shit. I thoroughly plan on never having a significant other. I don't need or want anyone to grow old with.

I am characterless and plot-less and freaking out about failing out of college two months in.

The most annoying thing about this fucking romantic epic is that I keep seeing green eyes and bronze hair.

So of course, when I leave Jake's to write this beast, I run into Edward mother fuck him Cullen.

We sit only a few feel apart, but the air around us is charged. Well, more charged than usual. Maybe it's the whiskey or maybe it's the pot, but the urge to touch Edward is overwhelming. I die a slow death while he studies away, happy as a motherfucking worker bee.

He doesn't let me bully him into getting drunk, and it secretly pleases me. Edward is a good person, and I'm glad he isn't letting me drag him down with my booze and my crazy and the needs of my vagina.

If I liked Edward less, I would have fucked him long ago. He may have even gotten a rare, but coveted, repeat performance.

I don't know what the hell I'm thinking when I sit myself down on his lap. I'm a horrible person, leading him on like this. I know I'm sending mixed messages, telling him to back off and then getting all up on him, but I can't help it. Edward does things to me that I don't understand, and I want the madness to stop.

As I steadily get drunker, I neglect my short story to watch avidly as he studies. I want nothing more than to fuck him right there in the library. He is so adorable, so focused on his homework. Leaning over the science book with his elbows on the table and his head supported by his hands, Edward's lips move along as he reads. It's shockingly sexy, and I want to feel his lips move against my skin. Everywhere.

As I sit there fanaticizing about Edward's lips, I decide that he will be my male character. He's the closest thing I've had to romance ever, and I will write a fictionalized version of us, if I had ever been willing to go out with him, that is. That means I'll have to write some version of myself as the woman, and this makes me excessively uncomfortable. Writing is the scariest thing I do because I put so much of myself into it. I don't like to be weak, and I don't like to be vulnerable and I don't like to be wrong, but good writing required all three.

I need to understand him better.

Drunk Bella and writer Bella and horny Bella combine forces, shamelessly grinding their lady bits onto Edward's very apparently aroused man meat. Drunk/writer/horny Bella almost kisses him until some sense is slapped into them by the ringing of Edward's cell phone.

But I accomplish my mission. I understand him a little better. He thinks so much better of me then what is true, and story Edward is going to pay for that mistaken judgment.

The whole encounter is incredibly unsettling, and if he starts with the ask-Bella-out-every-two-seconds routine again I will flip shit. He always looks so disappointed when I say no. Does the kid like rejection? I mean shit, my answer isn't going to change.

After he leaves, I briefly consider making my character a gay man, but that adds a whole extra layer of complexity that I am not sober enough to tackle.

It only takes me a little over an hour to write my story after Edward leaves. I keep my characters nameless, weaving them into a grey, mystical setting that could be anywhere.

My two star-crossed lovers are on their first, generic date. They like each other, a lot, and are nervous. He awkwardly tries to be a gentleman, she has a problem not saying every little thing that crosses her mind, but they connect. As they leave the restaurant, headed back to his apartment, the female envisions the possible outcomes for their future.

In one, he realizes who she really is and leaves her alone and destroyed.

In another, she does the leaving, unable to handle his commitment and positive view of her character.

Only briefly does the woman consider happily ever after, but the hope is there and that is dangerous. I leave it open ended, letting the readers decide for themselves the fate of my two lovers.

After I close my laptop, I am horribly depressed and pissed off. I want Edward. I want to watch his lips silently read along as he absorbed the words in a book. I want to simply be in the same room as him. I want to fuck him silly, and I want to not what him.

I truly hate him for fucking with my emotional stability. I truly hated me for letting him. I truly hate Renee. For good measure.

Angry at the world in general, I tromp off to Jake's; thankful for once that he is throwing a ragger. Jake is always hosting crazy parties these days, so I see less of him. I can't get thrashed nightly like I could once upon a time. I have classes to attend and studying to do and it all actually matters.

"BELLA!" A cheer goes up form the living room when I enter. It's packed with people, but I am pleased that many of the guys are here. Embry, Quil, and Jake all rush me, bouncing me around in between their bodies like a motherfucking pin ball as I grumble in protest.

"What are you doing here, Bells?" Jake asks, giving me a big Jake bear hug. I close my eyes and try to relax, but it isn't working.

"Finished my story earlier then expect, and I need to get drunk. Well, drunker," I say, grinning like an idiot when Jake magics a bottle of tequila out from behind his back. I snatch it from his grasp before plunking down on the couch, stealing Jake's spot.

"Is this cashed?" I inquire, gesturing towards the large bong on the coffee table after taking a long swig of tequila.

"Nope," Jake says, handing me his liter as he evicts the stranger next to me. I hit it twice before passing it back to Jake. He always has the best weed. A perk of being a small time drug dealer, I suppose. I close my eyes and let the pot and alcohol hit my system. Though I feel good, it does nothing to calm me down. I really need to get laid. It's the only way to relax after Edward has me all wound up. I lazily scan the room for prospects, my eyes lingering on Sam Uley. He is a couple years my senior, and I've known him forever. We hooked up a few times over the summer, and he makes weird noises, but will do.

"Just to let you know," Jake says, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "Sam's dating this new girl. He brought her tonight and apparently, he's really into her."

"Fuck," I say, frowning. I will actually have to make some effort then. "In that case, I'm going to go a lap."

"Good luck," Jake chuckles as I rise from the couch.

"Likewise, brother," I reply, giving him an enthusiastic salute as I set off on my mission. The house is packed and I'm really not very picky. I'm trying to be better, as per my college Bella declaration, but tonight I just don't care. I crave the escape and the mindlessness of some good, anonymous sex.

An hour later, the tall, dark, and handsome Jared asks me to be his beer pong partner. And though I am well on my way to hamcaked, I agree because Jared is cute, even if his hair is all wrong and his eyes are too dark. As we play, he touches me, shoulders, arms, lower back. And I touch his back. By the time we lose horribly, everything Edward makes me feel evaporats, lost in the haze of pot and tequila and Jason's hand in mine.

Or is it John? Jeremy maybe?

I can't remember his name, but by the time he pulls me out the front door, I don't care. We make out like crazy on Jake's front porch, groping each other as we move down the street. He only lives a few blocks away, and I need this feeling so badly.

I wasn't planning on envisioning Edward, but I do at first. I imagine that it is Edward kissing me, that it is Edward tugging on my clothes and throwing me on the bed.

But then Jackson rolls on the condom and pounds into me with very little foreplay, effectively ruining the fantasy. Edward would never treat me like that. Edward would put my needs first. Edward would take pleasure from giving me pleasure.

And I him.

Not once does Jonah put his lips on my skin when we reach the bedroom.

It's fast, jarring, jackhammer sex, and I don't even bother to fake it. I am grateful that he falls asleep the moment he rolls off me. Scooting as far away from his body as I can get, I kept my eyes trained on the window.

Nothing about the night goes as planned, and I struggle not to cry as Jordan snores beside me. I don't understand why I feel so vile and depressed. Normally, nights like this make me feel better. Just for the night, I am free. But instead of finding a little peace, I feel lower then I have in years. Something changed fundamentally while I wasn't paying attention, and I really don't like change.

When the first signs of sun peak across the eastern plains, I silently slip out of bed and got dressed. In the pale morning light, I walk slowly back to my dorm, trying to get my head around my night. I am so tired. Not, missed-a-night-need-to-catch-up tired, but weary down to my bones. I don't know how long I can go on like this, but don't see any other options.

Around six, I collapse into my bed and sleep for a solid 3 hours.

When I open my door to go to biology the next morning, Edward is waiting with a hot tea in one hand and three Advil in the other.

I want to hug him and thank him and cry all over him, but instead I punch him in the arm and call him a pretty boy.

* * *

**So comments? Concerns? **


	7. Giving Thanks

**Welcome to the 7th installment of Hallett Hall!**

**It's kinda a long one, and I hope you enjoy it.**

**Thanks everyone for the kind words and encouragement in review form.**

**I don't own.**

* * *

December 22, 2010

EPOV

"Goddamn, fucking, cat," I mutter without even opening my eyes.

Waldo's sand paper tongue on my ear wakes me in the morning. I try to swat him away, but he's persistent. He's truly the weirdest cat. Of course Bella would pick out such an odd ball.

Bella.

Instantly my eyelids shoot open, and I become aware of her in my arms with her back to me. The covers are pulled up above her chin, and from my angle I can see her open eyes. Bella's always the early riser, and I'm surprised she is still in bed. Her breathing is even, and I can feel her move against my chest. When I realize that my hand found her tit in my sleep, and my morning wood pokes her butt, I jump away from her body. Waldo, who was curled up behind my neck, doesn't like this at all and scratches my exposed skin.

"Motherfucker!" I yell, pushing him off the bed as I clutch my damaged throat.

"He's hungry. That's why he's so cranky. He's always hungry in the morning," Bella murmurs. At the commotion, she rolled and is staring up at me from the pillows.

She looks too beautiful, my breathing stops, and I fight the urge to kiss her temple, just as I used to do every morning.

"I'm aware," I grumble, swinging my legs out of bed and wincing when the cold air hits my toes. "I've been dealing with him alone for the last two years."

"Edward…" Bella starts, but I really don't have the energy to fight with her.

"Just don't, Bella," I sigh, walking to my dresser and pulling on a thick pair of woolen socks.

"I shouldn't have gotten into bed with you last night," she says, still curled up in my bed like she never left it. But she did. She left. She left. She _left_.

"No, you shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry."

It amazes me, the number of times she has apologized in the last twenty-four hours. More then the rest of our relationship combined.

"But… it's just too hard. Knowing you were just on the other side of this door and not being with you was just too hard. The pull… And then it was cold and I couldn't just lie there in that foreign, cold bed all alone."

"You had Waldo," I reply, glaring down at the cat who is now sitting at my feet, staring at me with his big green, crossed eyes.

"You didn't have to make me stay," she says quietly. "Part of you wants me here or you wouldn't have told me to stay. I could've taken the bus yesterday."

"I just took your keys," I snap defensively, recognizing the truth in her words. "Not your bus pass."

Bella's brow furrows as she frowns at me, and its very hard work to keep myself from smoothing it with my thumb.

"You don't have to take me to Boulder," she says. "I'll just take the bus."

"No, its fine," I hear myself reply. I should make her take the bus, but I like having her with me. I like I knowing where she is. "I was planning on heading up there in the next couple days anyway. For Christmas, and all that."

I pull a duffle out of my closet and start tossing clothes in it.

After packing silently for a few moments, I hear the covers rustle behind me. Glancing sneakily over my shoulder, I see her get up, dressed only in an oversized flannel shirt and a pair of black boy short underwear. We make eye contact, and my head snaps back to my packing. I hate that I was caught peaking.

"I'll feed Waldo," she murmurs.

Bella exits the room without another word, leaving me to pack and get dressed. I pull on a thick green sweater before realizing that Bella purchased it for me and dawning a grey one instead. After brushing my teeth and failing to tame my hair, I follow the smell of coffee to the kitchen.

Bella's right, I can't make a decent cup. But she can. She hands me a mug, and the liquid is black and strong, just as I like it.

"Want me to make you breakfast?" she offers, sitting on my kitchen counter and nibbling on a piece of toast. I'm thankful she's pulled on her black jeans, even if they are tight as fuck. Bella covered is only slightly less appealing then Bella naked.

"No, just the coffee." I glance at the clock on the oven. It's already eleven. I can't believe Bella stay in bed as long as she did. "We should get going. Where's Waldo?"

Bella giggles into her mug of tea. After four years, I thought she would have tired of her own little joke.

"I'll find him," she says, draining her cup and hopping off the counter.

Everything feels so normal. I don't really know what to do with myself. So I stay in the kitchen and finish my coffee. She emerges a few minutes later, dressed in her mustard scarf, leather jacket, and combat boots, cradling Waldo like the lazy baby he is.

Wordlessly, I bundle up, sling my duffle over my shoulder, and follow her out the door.

"This is your car?" she asks, following me to my semi-buried Volvo.

I nod as I open the passenger door, and gesture for her to enter.

"It's perfect," she says with a smile, handing me the ice scraper.

Begrudgingly, I take it and stare at the two feet of snow on the windshield. There is nothing I despise quite like clearing the snow and ice off my car. It's cold and wet, the main reason I don't like winter. But Bella and I have places to be, so I begin the arduous task.

Bella's truck is a couple spaces away and equally covered. I'm glad she didn't insist on driving it back. The Volvo has snow tires, and I happen to be an excellent driver where as the truck barely starts and Bella gets easily distracted. Eventually, we will address the issue of her truck in Denver, but for now we leave it where it is.

As I pull put off the parking lot, Bella retrieves her iPhone and plugs it into the jack. She messes around for a moment before Josh Ritter's melodious voice comes over the speakers. I smile, even know this choice hurts.

"No reggae today?" I ask as we pull onto highway 36 that will take us directly to Boulder. The tension in the car is too thick and prompts me to speak.

"I don't like reggae when it's cold. It's summer time music," she replies, looking out the window. I nod, even though I already know her opinions on music and seasons. The car slips back into silence. Josh Ritter continues to sing, and Waldo purrs away, happier then he has been in two years since Bella left.

Unfortunately, I know just how he is feeling. I'm trying so hard to remain unaffected by Bella, but there is no denying how happy her presence makes me. It would be so easy, to slip back into a familiar pattern with her.

I could forgive her. We would turn back into the couple (if you could call us that) we were two years ago. She would insist things between us were casual, while I would ignore her because they so obviously aren't. I would convince myself that Bella really did love me, even if she couldn't say the words. We would settle, and I would be happy again, but I cannot live with the fear of her disappearing again. I deserve someone to love me as hard as I love them.

I don't see this happening in the near future. All I can see is Bella. It's a problem.

"Emmett isn't talking to me," Bella says when we go up to the last hill out of Broomfield to see a snow covered Boulder laid out beneath us. "If it makes you feel better."

"It does, actually," I reply tersely even though I have mixed feelings on the hostility of my brother. His silence is totally justified, of course. And I appreciate that he is firmly on my side, unlike my big twin and Jake, but I still don't like the thought of people being antagonistic to my Bella. I filled the role of protector for so long, and those feelings have not dissipated with her absence as much as I want them too.

"I know I fucked up, Edward," she says, eyes fixed on the mountains looming above our town. "Emmett's silent treatment is as deserved as your anger. I just hope that you will talk to me, eventually. I'm not going anywhere."

I sigh loudly. My feelings are all over the place, so I say nothing.

Ten minutes later, I park on the street outside of my old house. My insides warm up at the sight. The years I spent here were some of the best of my life. It was home to me, especially after my father retired and my parents started traveling the world.

The house on Goss is home base for the Cullen family. My parents, in a moment of a truly over the top display of their generosity and wealth, bought it for Alice and I as a graduation present. It was a nice gesture, but I didn't want it. There were too many memories of Bella there, so Alice had been working on buying up my share. With her money, I bought my Volvo and the ability to visit often.

We walk up the familiar steps, and I hold the door open, gesturing for Bella to enter in front of me.

"Hello?" I call out, shutting out the cold behind me and slipping out of my shoes. Christmas has exploded in the house. I smile at the enthusiasm of my sister, taking in the garlands, twinkling white lights, and other holiday memorabilia.

There is no answer, but I hear bass thudding in the basement indicating that at least Emmett or Jasper is home. The girls don't venture down there because it reeks of pot and sweaty man. It was dubbed the man cave long ago, and I would never set foot in it if it didn't house my piano.

Bella let's Waldo down, and he immediately disappears into the basement, the little stoner. I hang up our jackets in the hall closet, and then ascend the stairs, walking down the hallways to my room, before I realize a problem.

It's not my room anymore.

I open the door, dropping my bag in shock as I take in the new décor. Or maybe old is a more apt description.

When I moved out, I left the majority of my stuff packed up in boxes in the closet or the basement. I needed a fresh start in Denver, and I couldn't bring the familiar posters and pictures with me to my new apartment. Bella had quite a hand in decorating my room. It was once a combined reflection of our personalities, something I never expected to see again.

But almost everything is just as it was.

The east wall is all bookshelf and packed to the gills with literary masterpieces and scientific editions. It also holds a hodgepodge of stuff we collected over the years.

A pretty blown glass vase I bought from a street vendor on Pearl because Bella said she liked the colors. A beanie baby cat I gave her, before she wore me down enough to get a real one. A large clay mug Bella made me to accommodate the excessive amounts of coffee I consume daily.

Each poster and picture is in its proper place. An eclectic selection of band posters fix together like wallpaper around the closet: The Expendables, Bob Marley, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Josh Ritter, The Magnetic Fields. Bella calls it our concert wall and once she updated it with each show we attended.

On the west wall hangs a large oil painting of Bella and I in our meadow on Independence Pass, an Alice Cullen original. We sit to the left, dwarfed by the massive expanse of grass and wildflowers surrounding us. We don't necessarily look happy, Bella looks lost and I look desperate, but energy between us is palatable.

The comforter on the bed is different, but still familiar. It is thick and colorful, hand sewn by Bella's Nana Swan before Bella was even born. I'm not surprised to see that half the bed is covered in purple pillows. Above the headboard is another, dark abstract painted by my sister. It's the Flatirons. Despite the color pallet, the shape and texture is obvious.

Transfixed, I move to the long mahogany desk under the window. This desk was once my territory, the only space devoted to me in the whole room. I kept it meticulously organized. Many nights during the school year, I could be found here studying while Bella read in the papasan chair next to me.

Most of the pictures on the desk remain unaltered. I smile as I trace our smiling faces through the glass. My favorite is of Bella, studying in our secret library spot. Somehow, I managed to capture a softness in Bella that is not readily apparent. I always thought she was a big softy on the inside, but her departure had me questioning everything.

A close second was taken in the backyard, a week after we brought Waldo home. He was so tiny; he fit in Bella's cupped hands. She is gazing at the cat with adoration and while I gazed at her.

I never wanted the damn cat, but it made her so happy. Once upon a time, I would have done anything to make her happy.

"Alice said she asked you about moving in. Are you sure this is okay? This room will always be yours," Bella blabbers from behind me. I can tell by her voice that she is nervous, gauging my reaction. "And it's probably weird that I put all your old stuff back up. I should have asked first. But I hated this room without it. I wanted it to be familiar."

"Its fine," I say gruffly, finally managing to find my voice. Like most things involving Bella's return, I don't know how I feel about what I'm seeing. "You work fast."

In one day, Bella virtually set the clock back two years.

"I really, really hated what Alice did with this room. There was nothing of you in it," she murmurs.

"I don't really even understand why you would want any of me in it, anyway," I grumble.

"Because, you're everything," is her simple reply.

I close my eyes, fighting the goddamn pull to this woman. She is no good for me. She is the master of stringing me along, and I can't let her continue to manipulate me as she did for years. In the years since she left, I'd changed. I'd grown up.

Bella moves around me, grabbing a couple pillows, spare blankets, and her journal before walking back to the door.

"Where are you going?" I demand, because as much as I want her to leave me alone, I hate watching her walk away.

"I was just going to set up camp in the living room," she says. "I know you are sick of me by now."

"Living room?" I ask, turning to look at her.

"Yeah…" she says, shuffling her feet and blushing. "I know you are staying here until at least New Years… So I'll sleep on the couch."

I had not considered our sleeping situation until this moment. It amazed me how easily I slipped back into old patterns and I suppose I'd just assumed we would sleep together.

Internally, I curse myself vehemently.

"No, I can't let you do that," I snap, angry with both of us. "This is your room now. I'll take the fucking couch."

"Edward, don't be ridiculous. I'm an unexpected complication, ruining your Christmas. This is your room. Take it."

"No." Damn I sound angry.

"Edward," she moans in exasperation. "Don't be stubborn. I have some serious repenting to do, so please. Just let me sleep on the couch."

We stare at each other intently for a long time before I finally nod, and she disappears out the door.

* * *

November 19, 2004

"What the hell, Cullen? Are you stalking me?"

At the sound of her voice, I whip my head around to take in the glory that is Isabella Swan. Waiting in DIA for a flight back home to Seattle for Thanksgiving break is not somewhere I expect to see her, but I'm sure not complaining.

I grin up from my seat at her even though it is apparent from the tone of her voice that she is not kidding about the stalking.

Bella crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me as I survey her. She wasn't in Biology all week, and the separation has me going through Bella withdrawals. I stare at her black Converse covered feet and move up her legs. She wears tight black denim pants. Under her fitted leather jacket is a red and white plaid shirt that's shockingly similar to the one I have on. A long, gold necklace with a feather charm swings in her belly button area, momentarily distracting me.

"Eyes up here, Cullen," Bella barks, snapping her fingers at me to break my trance. My gaze finally reaches her face to find her blushing. I wish I know what that blush says about what she is thinking.

"Hello, Bella," I reply, flashing her what she dubbed "the panty dropping grin." This only makes her blush more, and I am quite pleased with my self.

Bella sighs dramatically, dropping her worn leather backpack to the floor and sitting in the seat next to me. Moments earlier it was occupied by Emmett, but he ran off to the bathroom. Probably to hurl. He doesn't like to fly.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she demands as my body turns towards hers seemingly on its own accord.

"Waiting for my flight home to start boarding. What else would I be doing in an airport?"

"You are waiting for this flight?" She gestures towards the gate and glowers at me incredulously.

"Yup."

"You're from Seattle?" Bella inquires. She is acting weird. Well, weirder then usual. How does she not know this? She's only living with my sister.

"No. I 'm from Forks this little—" I start to answer her question but she cuts me off.

"I know where Forks is!" she says, her voice low and dangerous.

"You do?" No one has ever heard of my hometown, and I raise an eyebrow in skepticism.

"Yes. Goddamn it. The universe hates me. I bet God or Buddha or Krishna or Jesus or whoever is looking down at the moment, having a good old belly laugh." She glares up at the ceiling and shakes her fist like we are in some old, poorly acted melodrama.

She continues to curse various deities, and even in her lunacy, all I want to do is touch her, kiss her, and hold her.

"Bella," I say quietly, interrupting her rant. "What in the world are you talking about?"

She sighs dramatically. Again. She's always signing dramatically at me.

"I'm from Forks."

I laugh loudly at this statement, thinking that she is joking.

"No you're not," I say after she remains silent for a moment. "There are like 3000 people in Forks and I at least know most of them."

"I moved away with my mom when I was a baby. My dad still lives there. I knew I should have never agreed to go see him. I'm a fucking moron." Bella slouches down in her seat as she pouts, getting so low to the ground that her chin touches her chest.

I wish my chin were touching her chest.

"Charlie Swan is your dad?" I ask, connecting the dots. Her dad is the chief of police in my hometown. Weird. What were the chances? "I didn't know the chief has a kid."

"He doesn't. I have only seen him three times since I was ten. I barely even count as his child." She looks so cute when she pouts. Her teeth work her button lip, and her brow furrows. I have to stick my hands in my pockets to keep myself from touching her face with my fingertips. She wouldn't like that at all.

"So why are you visiting him then?" I have so many questions for Bella. The girl is a complete mystery to me, and if she let me, I would devote all my time to learning everything there is to learn about her. I want to know her favorite movie, book, snack, and etcetera. Her likes, dislikes. I want to know her history, her hopes, and dreams.

Emmett often and accurately calls me a pansy.

"Better then the alternative, I guess," she says shrugging her shoulders and closing her eyes.

"Which is?" I press.

"Drop it, Adonis," she responds tersely.

"Fine. You know this is like fate or something, right?" I ask her, changing the subject as instructed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She sits up in her seat so she can glare at me properly, right in the eye. She spends a lot of time glaring at me, yet she doesn't tell me to leave her alone at all anymore.

Ah, progress.

"Bella. You should just give up now and admit that you are in to me. Fate obviously wants us to be together. It's destiny," I say good-naturedly. Bella turns bright red as she narrows her eyes at me. She appears to be seconds away from punching me. She has her Edward punching face on.

"Shut up, will you?" she growls through her clenched jaw.

"I see you aren't denying it. What are the chances that we would both be going to the same tiny town for Thanksgiving? That you would be born in the same town I grew up in? That you would get Alice as a roommate? Those are not random occurrences, it is fate." I lean back in my seat and rest with my palms on the back of my head, grinning as Bella turns purple, and her eye twitches.

I love messing with her. She freaks out so easily. Only a small part of me believes the words coming out of my mouth. She is so hot when she is irate.

"Are you high? Babbling psycho, hippy, crap at me. There is no destiny, no fate. Life is a random series of bullshit events, and all you can is survive. The only person you can depend on is yourself so you have to just suck it up and deal!"

As Bella's voice grows in volume and hysteria, the smirk falls from my face. I like to tease Bella, to annoy her and coax a reaction, but never would I intentionally say anything to genuinely upset her.

Bella's eyes are wide and her breathing labored. Her hands shake in her panic, and suddenly she leaps up, moving away from me. I grab her wrist, trying to fix what ever I messed up but fully anticipating Bella to pull away from me. Surprisingly, my touch seems to sooth her, and she look at me pleadingly.

Her big brown eyes are so dangerous. One look, at I will do anything for her.

I realize that Bella is scared. Strong, fiercely independent, don't need nobody, show no weakness Isabella Swan is scared, and I need to make it better for her.

A gentle tug on her arm is all it takes for her to plop back down in her seat, her eyes never leaving my face. I rest our still joined hands on the top of her thigh.

"Hey," I say, trying to keep my voice low and non-threatening. "I was just screwing around."

She nods, but the panic did not dissipate.

"You haven't seen your Dad in a long time, huh?" I say conversationally, running my thumb over her knuckles. The intimacy of the connection makes my heart soar. Normally, she would shy away from such a touch.

Again, she nods. Her big, earnest eyes distract me momentarily, and I forget where I'm going with my comforting. She is just so beautiful.

"Not since I was thirteen," she whispers.

"That's a long time," I murmur.

"Whatifhedoesnotlikeme?" she says, super quickly.

This is a side of Bella I have never seen, and it's ludicrously appealing. It confirms that she has a soft and gooey center, just as I expected.

"Bella," I reply, smiling softly at this amazing girl. She is such a bundle of contradictions, and I find her fascinating. Though the gesture runs the risk of completely freaking her out and ruining the moment, I can't help but stroke her cheek.

Slowly and cautiously, I move my fingers over her pale, smooth skin. Her eyelashes flutter, and I inhale sharply, enjoying the sensation of electricity tingling our skin.

"He's your Dad, he loves you. You're a college kid now! I'm sure he is one proud papa." Her lips twitch into a slight smile, so I kept going. "Look at you, who could not love you?"

The reverence in my tone is probably a little embarrassing, and Bella's eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn't pull away.

Would it be wrong to kiss her under such circumstances?

"Edward, I got juice. Do you want apple or cranberry? I don't think Emmett is going to want anyth— Oh!" Alice, with her typically flare for perfect timing, chooses that moment to come back from the snack bar, arms full of granola bars and fashion magazines. The moment we hear my twin's voice, the spell is broken, and Bella jerks away from my touch, pulling her hands from mine. "Bella! What are you doing here?"

When Alice sees that I am glaring at her intensely, she deposits all her goodies in my lap, slapping the back of my head as she takes the seat next to me.

"Waiting for my flight, short stack," Bella says with a lazy smile. She slips back into her usual, laid back demeanor so seamlessly. It's a little dizzying.

"Why are you going to Seattle?" Alice chirps, popping an M&M in her mouth and crossing her legs while I sulk about my ruined moment with Bella.

"You're her roommate," I grumble. "How did you not know?"

"She told me that she was spending the holiday with some friends, little twin," Alice sneers.

"Change of plans," Bella responds, interrupting our sibling bickering.

"She's from Forks!" I burst out at my sister, venting my frustrations on the annoying little pixie. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know. Bella has a policy," Alice says, giggling.

"Policy?" I ask.

"Yeah, my brother annoys her so much she banned me from talking about anything involving my family," Alice says, smirking at me as I turn bright red. I thought Bella at least saw me as a friend. Guess not.

"It was a long time ago," Bella murmurs, not looking at me. "Before biology and the library."

Her words placate me somewhat, but I'm still brooding as Alice chatters away about our home time. Like me, Bella isn't a big talker, something that is definitely a positive when hanging out with Alice. It's best to just let the twin blather. Bella glances at me several times, blushing and smiling, but at what I cannot say.

Eventually, Emmett returns, still looking slightly green and clenching his fists. He doesn't even question Bella's presence and gives her a terse nod before sitting next to her.

It's just a flight. Who's the real pansy here?

Bella boards first, waving to us as she shoulders her backpack. I am disappointed that our time together is ending. It's how I feel at the end of biology every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. If I had my way, I would spend all of my time just being with Bella.

A few minutes later, our section is called, and we trudge down the aisle. Bella is sitting in a middle seat, large headphones over her ears. She is biting her lip and staring out the window with unfocused eyes. As we approach, a man is taking the seat next to Bella.

"Hey do you mind trading me seats?" I ask without really thinking.

"Why?" he replies, looking confused.

"She's my friend," I say, shrugging my shoulders and gesturing to the lost looking girl in the middle seat. She has her headphones on and has yet to notice me.

"Oh right. I get it buddy. What kind of seat you got?"

"A window. Four rows back."

"Okay!" He trades spots with me as Alice chuckles and moves passed me. I stuff my duffle into the overhead and sit next to Bella.

Glancing at me, she does a double take and squeaks a little when she sees me.

"Shit, Cullen, where in the fuck did you come from?" Tough girl Bella is back, and I find I don't mind it at all. Scared and vulnerable or hard and crass, I like all aspects of Bella.

"Just down that aisle," I say, making a big show of pointing toward the door by the cabin.

"Cute," Bella replies, fighting against her own grin.

"Aw thanks, babe. I think you're cute too." My voice is song-singy so she knows I'm just teasing.

She rolls her eyes and punches me in the shoulder.

"So you have an anti Edward policy huh?" I say trying to sound casual but unfortunately, I just come off as hurt and whiney.

Bella grimaces and looks out the window. "Yeah… sorry bout that. Alice was just all up in my shit the day after I… the day after we…"

"Slept together?" I offer, waggling my eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes. Right. That. I was embarrassed, all right? You flustered me," she mutters, still not looking at me.

"Flustered? Pasted tense?" I push.

"Edward. Do me a favor and just shut the fuck up about it ok? I'm letting you sit here, aren't I?"

"Wow. Bella, I'm honored. You must really like me, letting me sit next to you and all," I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You know I don't not like you, you cocky bastard," she says, with a customary smack to my arm. I'm going to bruise. It says a lot about my sick obsession with her that I'm looking forward to her marking me.

"Does this mean you will finally go out with me?" I asked, trying to dazzle her with my smile. Since the beginning of the year, I ask her out at least once every two weeks. She thinks I'm joking, and I don't hold any real hope that she'll say yes.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Bellaaaa…"

"Edward."

"Why not? I'm charming."

"You are not, you nerdy little mama's boy," she says with a laugh. "Plus, I don't want to."

I sit back with a huff, and Bella smirks, bringing her headphones back over her ears. I want to keep talking to her, but this constant foisting myself on my unwilling ladylove is exhausting, depressing, and humiliating. She has a freaking anti-Edward policy for goodness sake.

Five minutes later Bella is forced to cram her iPod in the seat back pocket in front of her. She turns to look at me expectantly, as if I have something more to say. We are used to sitting together in easy silence, but Bella can tell that I'm not pleased. Usually when I'm not pleased, I bug her until I feel better about whatever the hell is going on between us.

"How you doin over their, dude?" Bella says, leaning forward in her seat after take off, trying to make eye contact with me. I am too busy brooding to indulge her. I just grunt in response, keeping my arms crossed over my chest and my eyes fixed on the mini TV embedded in the seat in front of me. The cat fight flashing on the reality show in front of me proves to be a lacking form of distraction.

"Are you cranky because I say I didn't not like you?"

Again, I grunt. She lays her head on my shoulder and looks up at me with her big brown eyes. I work really hard to focus on the screen, to keep the smile off my face, and to ignore how good even the slightest touch from her feels.

"Are you cranky about my former policy?"

She pushes her nose into my jaw and blinks at me with her fucking eyes. It is not fair. Bella's very good at determining when she's pushed me too far, and then reeling me back in. She really is evil, and even though I know she is manipulating me, I give in.

"Former?" Glancing down at her, I squeeze my arms across my chest to keep myself from touching her.

"Yeah. Former. Thank you, by the way."

"What for?" I ask, disappointed as she pulled away from me to sit up straight in her seat.

"For not saying anything about my minor freak out before," she mutters, studying her nails. "It was just a bizarre moment. An aberration. I do not give a flying fuck what Charlie Swan thinks of me."

I can't help the slight eye roll. She is so full of it.

"Well, if you need a break from the chief of police, give us a call. You're welcome to come over whenever," I say, my heart beating wildly in my chest at her proximity and the thought of seeing her throughout the week.

"Really?" Bella's face lights up like the New York City skyline.

"Consider this your standing invitation to la casa de Cullen."

Bella and I lapse into silence, both donning our headphones. She relaxes into my side, putting her head back on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

I never want the flight to end, but eventually we land at SeaTac. We meet up with my siblings, laughing and taunting Emmett about his flying phobia as we make our way outside to the passenger pick up. The four of us stand on the curb, waiting for the parentals to pull up.

A familiar police cruiser arrives, and I sense Bella's tension at my side. She shuffles closer to me, yet her face remained impassive. It truly amazes me. Bella's compulsion to bottle up everything she's feeling is both alarming and beguiling. I like to think that I am figuring her out, breaking through that hard as nails façade. She seems to trust me, and is finally opening up slightly. Even admitting to not not liking me.

I desperately want to be her go to person, but I have no idea what I am doing. All I know is that as her estranged father approaches, I feel nothing but protective of the girl at my side.

"Edward? Alice? Emmett?" Charlie says, emerging from his parked car. His eyes dart between the four of us, and he looks exceedingly uncomfortable. He knows us because he works with Carlisle when medicine and police work overlap. "Do you know Isabella?"

"She's my roommate, Chief Swan!" Alice says, bouncing forward as Bella once again moves closer to me. I wonder if she will freak out if I put my arm around her teeny tiny waist.

The hands go into the pockets of my jeans instead. But I did place myself protectively in front of her.

"Isn't that crazy? Small world, huh?" Alice continues.

"Yeah small world," Chief Swan agrees. "Staying out of trouble?" He turns his gaze onto Emmett, who shuffles nervously.

"Of course, chief." Emmett has a bit of reputation in Forks because of his various illegal escapades. Most involve indecent exposure. His brushes with the law are somewhat legendary.

"Good. Good. Hello, Isabella," Charlie says, finally addressing his daughter.

"Bella." Bella and I correct him at the same time before looking at each other with matching, embarrassed grins.

"Right. Bella. Let's get going, ok?" Charlie grabs her duffle and moves towards the car. She steps away from me, following her Dad as I quell the urge to grab her hand to prevent her from leaving.

"Bella!" I call just before she closes her door. "We're just going to hang out, watch movies at our place tonight. You should come over."

"Totally!" put in Alice as Emmett looks at me like I've lost my mind.

Bella smiles slyly at us before nodding her heard. "Okay."

I grin as I watch the car pull away and disappear from sight.

November 23, 2004

"Oh, honey. You look so handsome. Not that you didn't look great before, but Alice's make over is really working for you!" my mom gushes as I descend that stairs the Tuesday night. "You're going to break the hearts of all these Forks girls, you college stud you."

"Mom, please," I say, embarrassed at her attention. Tonight, Alice has me in dark jeans and a black button up. She won't let me wear one of my usual sweaters and I'm cranky about it. Alice calls me a stuffy old man, but really I just like to be comfortable. And warm.

"Though I wish you would figure out how to tame this hair," Esme muses, pulling on the ends. "Cut it maybe."

"No. Absolutely not." Bella likes my hair, there is no way I am changing it. Esme looks amused at my outburst, and I wonder if she knows about my crush on Bella.

"Leave him alone, Esme," my dad says, emerging from the kitchen with a smile. "You're hovering."

"Carlisle, all of my children are home for the holiday. This house has been too quiet for months. I'm allowed to hover." Esme slips under his arm with misty eyes.

"WHO IS READY TO PAR-TAY!" Emmett bellows as he barrels down the stairs, joining us in the front parlor.

Esme, Carlisle, and I all roll our eyes at him.

Tonight Mike Newton, Emmett's best friend from high school, is throwing a reunion get together for Forks High alums. I have zero desire to see anyone from high school, but there really is nothing to do in Forks and break is already painfully boring. Plus, Bella has agreed to come, and I jump at any chance to spend time with her.

At school, Bella limits our contact to academia. She lets me walk her to class, and occasionally joins me for breakfast before bio. Sometimes we study in the common room and the library, but never does she let me see her outside of school related activities.

There has been a marked change in our relationship since her mild airport freak out. She let me in, ever so slightly. I know that she doesn't want to be in Forks, doesn't want to spend any time with the man who is basically a stranger, despite the DNA she shares with him. As a result, she has spent a large amount of time at our house.

It's magnificent.

Alice has Bella locked away in her girl lair/bedroom for the majority of the afternoon after Bella finally agreed to subject herself to a makeover. We wait for the girls to emerge before going to the party.

"Emmett. This is Forks. I don't get why you are so gung-ho about seeing people from high school," I grumble.

"Hey man. I was the fucking king of Forks High not some sort of social outcast like you. The people love me, and I love the people," he continues to boom, raising his fists above his head in triumph.

Part of me is nervous about Bella seeing me as the giant dork with no real friends I was in high school, but she really pretty much already knows that so I try not to stress too much.

"Emmett," Mom says, smacking his bulging bicep. "Language!"

"Sorry, Ma. Must have lost my filter when I was away at school."

Alice and Bella appear on the top of the stairs, arguing as they approach.

Sounds ceased to make sense to me. Bella's beauty, which thoroughly stuns me on a standard day, is amped up tonight, and it's ripping my chest wide open. Her hair curls around her head in riot of waves. I love her hair and she rarely leaves it completely down. She is dressed in a deep red dress that clings to every curve. Her shoulders are bare, and I want to kiss the spot where they meet her neck as I run my fingers through her hair. Pewter bangles clang on her wrist, and her ring-encrusted fingers clutch a black sweater. The dress stops high on her thigh, revealing her legs that I admire so much. On her feet is a worn pair of converse sneakers.

My eyes probably bugle out of my head, and I surely look like the love stuck idiot I am. As difficult as it is, I force myself to tune back in to the real world as Bella approaches.

"I don't care if they make the outfit, Alice, I'm not wearing those death traps!" exclaims Bella.

"But Bella. You will look so hot!" Alice stomps her foot, huffing in frustration.

"She already looks fine," I snap in irritation before I can stop myself. The males of rainy little Forks are going to flip out at the sight of my exotic little vixen, and that will not do. "Put on the sweater why don't you?"

I sound pretty damn mean, and everyone looks at me like I've lost my mind. Which is probably the truth. Bella dives me to insanity.

"Edward! What has gotten into you?" Esme admonishes. She is shocked by my behavior because I'm the only child that lives up to her high standards of politeness and manners. "She looks lovely."

"Thank you, Esme," Bella says quietly, glaring at me intensely. Her hands shake with her rage, and I know that if we were not in the company of my parents, she would chuck the sweater at me, screaming that I can't tell her what to do.

"Yeah thanks, Mom. But don't you think she would look better in the heels I have for her?" Alice insists.

"Just drop it, pip-squeak," Emmett says, rustling Alice's hair as she screams in fury. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Ok, Ok, everyone calm down," Carlisle says, snagging Alice's elbow to keep her from launching her little fists at Emmett. "Ground rules. No drinking and driving, don't be too loud when you come home, don't do anything stupid, and call if you need us."

With that we are out the door, getting into Alice's little yellow Porsche. She is the DD for the evening, claiming that she is to depressed to drink with Jasper so far away.

I spend the short car ride trying to make eye contact with Bella to apologize, but she just glares out her window, tapping her foot in irritation. She violently shoves her arms into her long, black cardigan when the outside cold hits her as we arrive at Mike's. I'm sure she would love to ditch the thing to spite me, but ultimately she hates the cold more then she hates me at the moment.

We all tromp up the porch to the sounds of heavy bass pulsating through the Newton house. Suddenly, I am crazy anxious. Though it is true that I was a bit of a social outcast, I wasn't tormented in high school, mostly just ignored. Which is the way I liked it. High school wasn't horrible for me, but that didn't mean that I'm in a rush to see the people I went to school with.

I briefly dated the extremely popular Tanya towards the end of senior year, causing quite the stir on the social scene. It was awful and made me thankful that I was such a loner.

Thanks to Alice's Edward-needs-a-new-look-for-college makeover campaign, I don't look like I looked in high school. My hair is shorter, I wear contacts instead of glasses, and my clothes are apparently stylish. Or slightly less nerdy, I suppose.

Gosh darn it. Tanya is probably in that house. I'm going to get fawned over, and I hate being in the spotlight.

The moment we step through the threshold, Mike and a bunch of other meatheads accost Emmett, Alice squeaks as she sees a familiar face, taking off in the opposite direction of the dumb jocks, leaving Bella and I alone, loitering near the door.

"So, this is how they throw down in Forks, huh?" Bella says, crossing her arms over her chest and surveying the crowd. There is probably about 30 people standing around in the kitchen and living room, chatting in groups and clutching red cups. It seems like a pretty standard party to me, though everyone is staring at us avidly. Bella is a stranger, something incredibly rare in Forks, and I am all spiffed out now so the pair of us is causing quite the stir. I don't like all the male eyes ogling Bella, so I move closer to her, carefully draping an arm around her slender shoulders.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing, Cullen?" Bella says, jerking away and shoving me backwards roughly. Shamefully, the feel of her hands on my chest excites me endlessly. "You don't get to touch these cardigan covered shoulders, cocksucker."

"Bellaaa…"

"Don't you fucking Bella me," she scolds, shaking a finger in my face. "Someone in this lame ass house better have some weed," she mumbles to herself as she stomps away, leaving me all alone to endure the stares of my former classmates.

Sighing, I squeeze my eyes shut, pinch the bridge of my nose, and try to not freak out.

"Edward, hey man. How's it going?" I glance up, pleased to see Eric Yorkie, one of the few people from Forks I actually consider to be a friend.

"Eric! It is good to see you," I reply, firmly shaking his hand and actually meaning it.

"Ditto. You look like you need a drink," he chuckles.

"Eric, you read my mind.

3 beers, 2 shots of tequila, and a glass of something called Jungle Juice containing an undetermined amount of alcohol later, and I am staring at Bella across the kitchen, flirting away with Mike Newton.

This is a side of Bella I have never seen before. She is giggling, touching his arm, and flipping her hair. It's the fakest bullshit I have even seen, and for the first time since meeting Bella, I am actually really pissed at her.

I know she has some messed up past. I know that she has a hard time trusting people. I know that she is closed off, smokes too much pot, and has slept with too many boys.

But never before have I seen Bella lose herself like this. She prides herself on being real, being Bella no matter what anyone thinks. And this girly, flirty, all over Mike fucking Newton shit she is pulling has me downright incensed.

I lean back on the kitchen counter as people chat around me. Ignoring them, I stare intently at Bella as I suck down whatever Alice's friend Jessica pours in my cup. She is fawning over me, but I just ignore her like as I do everyone else.

Slowly and sensuously, Bella peels off that motherfucking cardigan. She glances up at me from underneath her eyelashes, and I realize exactly what she is doing. For one, harmless comment, Bella is purposely torturing me.

Mike pours another round of shots, and Bella downs two in quick succession as the males around her cheer.

You'd think they'd never see a female drink whiskey before. Idiots.

I finish my drink in response, handing it to Jessica for a refill.

"Wow, Edward! Look at you, drinking with the common folk. Who knew you were this cool?" she says, putting a hand on my shoulder. "College has changed you."

I don't even feel the contact.

I do notice that Bella notices said contact.

Eyes narrowing at me, she presses up against Newton, whispering something in his ear. He nods enthusiastically, grabbing her hand and pulling her out the sliding door to the back porch. At least she puts her sweater on as she went.

"Good God. You two are so ridiculous," Alice says from my side, shaking her head at me. "Are you going to go out there after them or what?"

Needing no more encouragement then that, I begin the arduous process of picking my way through the crowded kitchen. People attempt to stop me to talk, but I continue to ignore them, focused solely on the door.

Visions of the horrible things happening on the other side of that door bombarded my brain.

Sliding it open is rather anti climatic, thank God, because when I step outside Bella is sitting on the railing, a joint in her hand, glaring down at Mike Newton.

"Listen, fart muncher, I don't know what possibly gave you the impression that you're allowed to touch my legs, but you need to step the fuck off," she says in her dangerous, I am going to punch you voice. "I am not that drunk."

God, I hope she punches him.

Mike doesn't reply, he simply thrusts his cup at Bella. She shrugs, guzzles the liquid in one gulp, tosses the empty container over her shoulder, and takes another long drag of the joint as she closes her eyes.

"Drunk enough now?" Mike asks, sounding hopeful.

Bella laughs like a lunatic, Mike approaches her, and I can't stay impassive any longer. With a rough shove to his shoulder, I insert myself between the two.

"There's not enough alcohol in the world, Newton," I say, seething.

"What the fuck, Cullen? Who even invited you, nerd breath? Get the fuck out of my house," he replies, smirking and yelling at me simultaneously.

I try not to be intimidated and channel new college Edward, not old quiet high school Edward.

"Fuck you, Newton, leave her alone," I say, puffing up my chest and glaring at him. I'm taller, and I really enjoy looking down at him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Bella interrupts our little pissing contest.

"Whoa there, pard-ner," Bella says with a ridiculous cowboy accent. She wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards her spot on the rail while kicking Mike back with her foot. "Nerd breath? Really? That insult is an insult to insults. Run along now, sperm breath," she amends, "your services are no longer required."

Mike's face contorts in rage before he storms away.

"Thanks for the shity dank, you cheap ass son of a bitch," Bella yells as he slams the door.

I am suddenly very aware that Bella's arms are wrapped around my neck, and her chest is pressed up against my back. Her legs dangle at either side of my waist, and I have not been this close to her since our first meeting.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" I slur through my teeth. My lips are having a hard time forming words.

"I don't like people talking like that," Bella says, pulling me tighter to her chest. I close my eyes and bite my tongue to keep from groaning at the shivers racing over my skin. "Bullshit small time asshole dick brains, call you nerd breath. He is nerd breath."

"You didn't seem to mind, earlier," I say, feeling loopy as Bella's hands travel over my chest, lingering on my nipples.

"I was mad at you," she says, stilling her movements. "I am still mad at you." Each of her limbs fall away, and my body aches in protest. I turn around, glaring at her, grabbing the railing on either side of her butt to steady myself.

"That's stupid," I say.

"You're stupid. Telling me what to do. And you looked at me like I'm ugly," she pouts with her lip between her teeth.

I giggle like a wee little child at the thought. Bella. Ugly. Funny.

"You're sooo wrong," I say, resting my head against her chest, and closing my eyes. I sigh as Bella's fingers thread through my hair.

"You think I'm pretty?" she whispers, her legs winding around her waist again.

"I think you're beautiful," I murmur as I wrap my arms around her waist. She chuckles, and I plant a kiss at the base of her throat, causing her to shutter slightly in my arms. "I think you're sexy." I kiss the place where her shoulder meets her neck. "I think you're fascinating." I kiss the spot right under her ear.

"Where the hell did you learn how to do that? Goddamn you, Edward Cullen. You're dangerous."

I lift my head, wanting to get lost in her big brown eyes. It's not hard to do.

"Naw," I scoff, oddly flattered. Dangerous is not an adjective ever used to describe me before. Ever.

Bella takes another toke on her still smoking joint before putting it out on the deck rail beside us. She shuffles her hips forward, attempting to leap down, but the move only serves to bring her in close proximity to my throbbing crotch.

I'm feeling bold, flying high on the rush of telling off Mike Newton, kissing Bella's chest, and drinking too much. Without any forethought, I grab her hips and bring my lips to hers.

She responds immediately as the shivers consume us both.

Bella kisses me with a wild abandon, easily coaxing a similar response from me. She slants her warm mouth against mine. Her tongue traces my bottom lip, and I open my mouth to really taste her. I groan when her arms pull me closer. My heart is exploding in me chest and I never, never have experienced something so all consuming.

Bella's perfect lips leave mine to travel to my neck, making a quick pit stop at my ear, and she has me growing painfully hard.

"Bella," I moan, palming her breast, weighing them in my palm. I have dreamed of this moment for months and I wanted to touch ever thing. Right away. Holy crap, I'm touching Bella's boob.

But suddenly Bella stops, and all of her warmth is gone. She pushes me away and slips under my arm, stumbling towards the house.

"Oh no. No, no, no, nooooooo way," she mutters to herself as I follow close behind.

"What? Bella? What just happened? Where are you going?"

Maybe I'm not a good kisser. Maybe she doesn't feel everything I feel. Maybe she doesn't enjoy it.

"Away from you," she says, stumbling both over her words and her feet.

"Bella! Shit. Wait. Will you just talk to me please?"

"Noooooope." She struggles with the door handle, shaking as she tried to pry it open.

I'm learning that when Bella is trying (and failing) to keep in her emotions, her hands shake.

"Why not? Will you please stop running away from me?"

"Just leave me alone, Edward!" she yells.

"Really? Bella, really? We're back to that. I thought you liked me!" I squeak like a little girl.

"I do, you motherfucking moron. That's the whole problem." Her voice contains a sob, and her shoulders quiver. "I can't… You don't… I feel…"

She takes a huge, calming breath, and the shutters ceased.

"Just leave me the hell alone, Cullen." She pulls the door open, and steps through the threshold on unsteady feet. I follow her in a daze, struggling to comprehend what just happened.

I go from the elation of kissing Bella to the nausea of seeing her walk away. It's unsettling.

There's no time for me to recover because the second I slide the door closed behind me, I'm ambushed by a blur of strawberry blond hair. Sharp nails latch on to my arm.

"There is my Eddie boy! Where have you been, sugar?" she coos, laying her head against my shoulder.

My eyes snap to Bella who has her punching face on again.

"Come on, let's get you a drink and we can catch up. I want to hear everything about that cow poke town you live in now," Tanya links her arm with mine and leads me to the kitchen, forcing me to turn away from Bella.

Twenty minutes and at least two more drinks later, I sit on the couch next to Tanya, listening to my former girlfriend hold court among the Forksians still left at the party. She is always the queen bee.

I was so shocked by her pursueal of me in high school, that I turned a blind eye to her many negative qualities. How could Edward Cullen say no to Tanya Denali? She used to call me her diamond in the ruff, her dorky little treasure. I was arm candy for her, and she never bothered to get to know me.

What a bitch.

"So, Edward," she says, turning to me. Tanya puts an arm around my shoulder and places a hand on my chest. I blink at her, having a hard time focusing on anything. "Are you dating any of those cowgirls in the Wild West? Does the Stetson get in the way? Do they even shave?"

Bella huffs angrily from across the coffee table in an armchair she shares with a bored looking Alice.

"Did you say something, stranger?" Tanya says with distain. I take advantage of her distraction, and shimmed away from her. "Who are you anyway?"

"Bella Swan, the resident cowgirl," she drawls in reply. "Yeeee-haw."

"Really? You are from Colorado? How rustic." I don't understand why Tanya is being so snobbish towards Bella. We are from Forks, a freaking logging town, not some fancy city. "Tell me, do you ride your horse home? Where are your cowboy boots?"

"Oh you know, left um in the barn," Bella says, her southern accent getting sloppy as she glares at Tanya. "Wouldn't want to sully up those boxes on wheels that get yah from one place to another out here."

I think she is talking about cars, but I can't be sure. Why do people drink? It makes me stupid.

"Who are you exactly?" Tanya asks again, glaring right back.

Bella rises and wobbles over to where we sit. She towers above us, and places a hand on my shoulder. I drunkenly grin at her, faintly registering that this is the beginnings of a girl fight breaking out. And it might be over me.

"I'm Bella Swan, you cunt faced city slicker. Now back the fuck off before I stick a cattle-wangling paw down your cock sucking throat." Tanya looks horrified, and a chuckle escapes my lips, causing Bella's gaze to turn to me. "Come on Edward, let's blow this dude ranch."

I trip in my haste to follow her, not even noticing that Bella doesn't stop until we reach the damp street.

With quaking hands, Bella fumbles to light a cigarette. But she's shaking too badly and it's too windy, so she eventually throws it down unsmoked.

"Who in the mother fuck is that, Edward?" she demands, shoving me roughly when I got too close.

"M'ex," I respond, really wanting to touch her.

"You have an ex? I thought you were like, dating retarded or something." This statement should offend me, but I'm too drunk to really care.

"Not totally. Hey, you are jealous!" I giggle in my excitement when I figure out why she is so pissed. Maybe she really does like me.

"Ha. That's a reaaaallll interesting theory, Cullen." She tries to stomp off, but I grab her elbow, almost toppling us both.

"You like me!"

"No I don't! You fucking annoy the fuck out of me."

"False! I bet you would freak out if I went back in there to Tanya. You would _totally_ freak out."

"You are sooooo irritating!"

"You are so irritating!"

I'm not totally sure how we end up in the very small back seat of Alice's Porsche after that. The memories are hazy.

I love the feel of Bella straddling my lap, of her warm, smooth skin underneath my hands. She peels off her fucking black sweater and pops the buttons of my shirt.

"God, Edward. Where did you get a body like this, living in the fucking library," she mutters as her hands traced down my stomach to rest at the fly on my pants.

"Emmett," I reply, feeling like an idiot for bringing up my brother at such a time. She palms my hard-to-the –point-of-pain cock, and my hips lift off the car seat. Somewhere along the line, her dress is unzipped and pulled down to her waist, reveling her truly spectacular tits in a black strapless bra. I like the way my hands look on them.

I'm really drunk and having a hard time not freaking out. It's overwhelming, being with Bella like this.

"Bella I don't… I have never really… I don't know what I am—" Her tongue in my mouth cuts off my nonsensical rambling, which is good because I have no idea what I'm trying to express. It's an attempt to communicate my insecurity and how unsure I am with her like this.

"Shush, baby. You're doing just fine." She grins down on me, and I let my head fall back against the seat, moaning as I tried to calm down. The world is spinning.

What does it mean? Does she like me? I have a feeling that this does not mean that she wants to be my girlfriend. I don't think I'm capable of having casual sex with Bella.

"God. Bella. You feel… I feel…"

Bella stops her movements at the borderline panic in my tone.

"Oh shit. Look at you looking at me. Stop that. Edward, I don't do relationships. I don't do boyfriends…. I just cannot handle… I don't do boyfriends so you have to stop looking at me like that."

I just kept staring because she is just so beautiful, and I love her so much. I really do, as much as neither of us wants me too.

Bella lets out a little wail and collapses with her face in my neck.

"I can't Edward. I can't, I can't, I can't." She chants, rocking back and forth and really alarming me.

I hug her to me and make soothing noises, trying to get her to calm. Her distress is sobering. After a few moments, she relaxes against me and falls silent. Gently, I zip her dress back up, not wanting her to feel awkward or embarrassed. I try to pull away, thinking that my presence is not helping, but all four of her limbs tighten around me in protest.

"Don't. Not yet. Just hold me for a few more minutes," she murmurs sleepily, her lips tickling the sensitive skin of my neck. My heart soars at her words, and I do as she says, pulling her sweater back over her shoulders to keep her from getting cold.

I sigh, utterly and totally content with her in my arms. Her soft hair curls around my fingers, I close my eyes, and I breathe her in.

"I'm not doing the sex with you," she says eventually. I smile because she is cute when she is drunk.

"I am not doing the sex with you either." My arms tighten around her, and I try not to think about exactly how much I want to do the sex.

"Don't let me go, ok?"

"Ok."

Bella and I doze peacefully for a bit before Alice appears, supporting a nearly comatose Emmett on her tiny yet surprisingly strong shoulders. She unceremoniously dumps our brother in the front seat, her scowl softening when she sees Bella and I snuggled up in the back.

"If you weren't so cute right now I would kill you for deserting me with this drunk asshole and those drunk assholes." She gestures wildly towards Emmett and then towards the house. "I was really hoping Bella would bitch slap Tanya. Please do not vomit on my fancy leather seats."

When we arrive home, I struggle to navigate my way out of the car with a mostly asleep Bella still in my arms. She is supposed to have a sleep over with Alice, but I strongly hope that I could convince her to stay with me.

I already know that I loved sleeping with her.

"Here, Edward," Alice says as I pull Bella to her feet. She leans heavily on my side and doesn't open her eyes. "Trade me Emmett for Bella."

I want to do no such thing, but Alice is fruitlessly tugging on Emmett's arm. He doesn't move and babbles a weak protect. I attempt to do as my twin suggests, but Bella is not having that. She clings to my side, and I grin in pleasure. She likes me.

"You two are fucking ridiculous." Alice throws her arms up in frustration and runs into the house.

Still quite drunk, I don't know what to do so I just stand there swaying with Bella wrapped around me.

Alice reappears a moment later with an armful of blankets. With quick, efficient movements, she shoves Emmett all the way back into the vehicle, reclines his seat, tucks the blankets around him, kisses his forehead, and slams the door before turning back to Bella and I.

"Ok. The behemoth is taken care of. Now you two better keep a fucking lid on it. Mom and Dad are asleep," Alice says as she herds us into the house. We only trip four times, and at some point I am forced to put a hand over Bella's mouth to silence her giggles, but eventually we make it.

"I guess this is where I leave you," Alice whispers when we reached my bedroom door. "Both of you. Have a good night."

Alice disappears, and I am suddenly alone in my room with Bella. She staggers over to my bed flopping down on her back. I stare avidly, trying to burn the mental image into my brain.

She attempts to remove her sneakers using only her feat. Grumbling in frustration, she kicks around. I watch her struggle for a few minutes before I finally take pity on her and move to capture her feet in my hands. My fingers linger on her ankles as I toss her shoes to the floor.

I forgot to turn on the light when we entered, a mistake because I can't see her as clearly as I would like.

"Zipper now, Cullen," Bella says, flipping onto her stomach and gesturing to the back of her dress. Eyes bulging out of my skull, I quickly do as she instructs. I watch in enthrallment as Bella somehow manages to flop around until the dress is gone. It's reminiscent of a fish, but still obscenely endearing. "No sexing. Just sleeping."

She crawls up my bed on all fours before snatching back the covers and flopping down on the pillows. Though she appears instantly asleep, her little hand sneaks out from underneath the covers, patting the bed next to her.

I strip to my boxers in about 4 seconds and wonder how the hell I am going to fall asleep when I am this turned on, but I don't hesitate in joining Bella. I pull her into my arms, her head on my shoulder and a hand on my chest. I close my eyes and breathe her in.

I'm asleep in a matter of moments.

I wake up alone.

Despite all the alcohol I ingested the previous night I remember everything.

Bella, all over Mike Newton.

Bella, and our very first kiss.

Bella, scowling down at Tanya in jealousy.

Bella, upset because she likes me.

Bella, falling asleep in my arms.

I should have expected her to ditch me at the first sign of daylight.

Sitting up in my bed, I vigorously rub my hands over my eyes in an attempt to clear my sleep fogged brain. I groan as I open them, glaring at the offending sunshine streaming through the window. Of course the one day it's sunny in Forks is the one day my hangover demands cloud cover.

Just because I'm not surprised to find her gone, doesn't mean that I am any less hurt. Her departure leaves me feeling used and unworthy at the same time.

But then my bathroom door opens and out walks a fully dressed Isabella Swan. Her face is scrubbed free of make up, and her hair is pulled up into a messy bun. She smiles slightly when she sees me up and walks across the room to sit at the end of my bed.

"Hey," she says quietly.

"Hey," I manage to croak out. "You're still here."

"Yeah. I woke up a while ago and was going to leave… but then I just couldn't," she replies, playing with the hem of her dress.

"Why not?" Leaving seems like something Bella is very good at.

"Well, I knew it would make you sad and you just looked so… peaceful I didn't want to do that to you. It is the holidays after all," she answers, tucking both her legs underneath her as she turns to face me.

"Thanks for your, uh… consideration… I guess," I stutter, cursing my self for being so damn awkward. Bella bites her lip, and I can tell that she feels just as uncomfortable as I do.

"And also. I think we should talk."

Her words have nausea rolling in my stomach. My experience with relationships is limited, but I know talking like this is never a good thing. I want so desperately for Bella to trust me. For Bella to be my girlfriend. In the beginning, she made it clear that she has zero interest in dating me. Now, she is the queen of mixed messages, and I have no idea what she is thinking. Probably nothing good.

"Okay. About last night?" I clarify.

"Yeah, Edward, about last night. I want to say I'm sorry." That doesn't bode well for my aspirations to make Bella mine. "I should never have let any of that happen. I was just really drunk and out of control."

I nod and can't meet her eyes. I hate that she is sorry. It's one of the best nights of my life, even if we only kissed, and she is sorry.

"It won't happen again, Edward. It can't happen again. I know that when we first met, you had a little crush on me and all that, but I don't want or need any boy complicating my life. I'm not wired that way, okay?"

Again, I just nodded.

"I do… I am… What I'm trying to say is…" Bella takes a deep, shuttering breath, closing her eyes to calm herself before continuing. I get the feeling that she is having a very hard time. "I really don't want to lead you on, but at the same time I really don't mind being around you and shit. Usually I really fucking don't like people, but you're different."

I smile a bit at her bumbling. She is so damn adorable.

"Bella. What are you saying?" I ask.

"Goddamn it, Cullen. You know what I mean. Don't make me fucking say it," she says, glaring at me.

I lean forward, bringing my face closer to hers.

"Say it," I demand. "Out loud."

"Urrrgggggg," she says, flopping backwards and covering her face with her hands. "You're my friend, okay?" I can make out what she is saying, though her words are muffled.

"What's that, Isabella? I can't really hear you," I tease.

She kicks her feet out, throwing a little tantrum and groaning into her hands as I laugh.

"YOU ARE MY FRIEND, YOU BIG FAT ASS FACE!" she yells with a final kick to my shin. Suddenly she sits up, looking at me with her eyebrows furrowed in distress. "That is, if you still, you know, want to be my friend?"

Bella looks so shy and unsure. It's so intriguing, watching her go from tough to vulnerable so quickly. And as badly as I want it to be more, so obsessed am I with Isabella Swan that I will be anything she wants me to be.

"Come here," I say, extending an arm to her. I cannot handle her big, sad eyes a moment longer. She shuffles across the bed, and I wrap my arms around her rib cage. Exhaling loudly, she relaxes into my body and hugs me back. "I'll always be your friend, Bella. Okay?"

"Okay," she replies, her voice hushed and hesitant.

Eventually the hug goes on too long to be appropriate for a couple of friends, and I let Bella pull away.

"So if we are officially friends now," I say only making fun of her a little bit, "that means we're going to start telling each other things."

"Okay," Bella says again, nodding her head once and looking determined. "Shoot. Tell me what you want to tell me."

"Oh no, Isabella," I chuckle. "I'm not doing any telling. I'm doing some asking."

Bella's face remains impassive except for a sole, raised eyebrow.

"Why haven't you seen your dad in so long?" I asks, really going for it. I expected her to punch me, glare at me, cuss me out, and storm off, but she doesn't do anything. The only visible sign that she hears me is that her second eyebrow joins her first, way up at her hairline.

We just sit there, staring at each other while I freak out that I have pushed her so far.

"Charlie… he didn't want me," Bella murmurs as she picks at the black polish perpetually coating her nails. Involuntarily, a growl of outrage and disbelief escapes my chest. I don't understand how someone could not want Bella. She is beautiful, funny, unique, and complicated. She moves me, and fascinates me. I want to spend every moment with her and literally cannot understand how her own father could not want her.

"Now how can that be?" I ask, keeping my voice soft and taking her hands in mine to stop the fidgeting. "Look at you."

"Edward…" she chides, reminding me that we are just friends.

"Sorry," I reply without meaning it. "What makes you say that?"

"It's a long story."

"Bella? Friends, remember?" It's slightly shameful. Bella is obviously guilty about getting my hopes up last night, and I am using that guilt to get a little insight into her inner workings. On the other hand, it's pretty damn pathetic that she has made me so happy by admitting simply that we were friends. I am her bitch.

"Fine!" she huffs. "My parents dated in high school, got pregnant with me at seventeen, tied the knot. Renee, my mom, she wasn't happy, and we left before my second birthday. We traveled a lot, so I rarely saw Charlie. We met up with him a couple of times when I is a little kid. We moved to Boulder when I was eleven and Charlie insisted on visiting a couple times. But when I see him, he doesn't talk to me. He doesn't know me at all and doesn't really seem to want too."

Bella takes another deep breath. She seems to be giving herself mental pep talk, and I rub my thumb over her knuckles.

"And… he didn't want me enough to save me from Renee."

"Your mom is that bad?" I ask.

"I don't want to talk about Renee, Edward. Not even with my friends, not even with you. " I don't push. For now. But I know I eventually will, just like I won't give up on a possible romantic future with Bella.

"Okay. But I think you should try with your dad," I say, wary that she is going to flip out and leave. "I know the chief and he, like his daughter, isn't very good at sharing his emotions." She rolls her eyes at me but stays silent. "Maybe just talk to the guy. It's going to be awkward and you shouldn't have to be the one to do it, but just talk to him. Get to know your dad. I'm sure he loves you and would love you even more if you talked."

"Really? You think so?" she asks. God, those eyes. I am terribly aware that I am shirtless, in bed, and holding Bella Swan's hand.

"Yes, Bella," I reply. "I think so."

She leaves my room shortly after that, awkwardly waving to my parents in the kitchen before disappearing out the front door. I grinned for the rest of the day, hopeful that our new found friendship will last when we got back to Boulder.

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading.**


	8. A Punch or Two

**Happy Thursday everyone!**

**Hopefully everyone had an excellent week. **

**Thank you. So terribly much for the reading and the reviewing. The words of encouragement have been really mind blowing.**

**I don't know.**

* * *

December 22, 2010

EPOV

Dinner is a hellish affair. Bella sits to my right, in her once usual spot at the dining room table, and no one speaks. Rosalie and Emmett glare. Alice looks uncomfortable. Jasper looks high. I look at my French onion soup Rosalie prepared, diligently ignoring the girl on my right. The sounds of slurping and clinking fill the room.

Christmas is in three days. I hope we alleviate some of the tension before the holiday.

"So," Alice asks with trumped up enthusiasm. "How was everyone's day? Rosalie? What did you do?"

"Oh you know, the usual. Sometimes it just gets so dull I just want to take off for two years and fuck around. But somehow I refrain." Rosalie's words are harsh and her tone cruel. I hate it when Rose gets like this, and I wish she would just straight up say what exactly pissed her off so. Not that It's hard to guess.

I can't help but glance at Bella. Her face is a composed, emotionless mask, but she sets her spoon next to her bowl and puts her shaking hands into her lap.

"Please, Rose," Alice reprimands. "Emmett, what about you?"

"It was good, pixie-dust," says my brother through a spoonful of soup. "I dealt with this old employee who wanted their job back. It was the damndest thing. The dude quits, then comes crawling back with his tail in between his legs thinking that everything can just go back to the way it was before. Crazy right?"

"Em—" Alice tries to stop the conversation, but it interrupted by the overpowering voice of Rosalie.

"That motherfucker must be insane if they think their departure could just go unnoticed like that," says Rosalie, continuing to shoot laser beams of hate at Bella. "What a cock sucking little bitch."

"Where do you think this employee has been all this time?" Emmett muses. I'm surprised that Emmett is playing along with his girlfriend. He's usually so good natured, not vindictive at all. But for once, he is acting just as spiteful as Rosalie.

I find I don't like hate directed towards Bella.

"Dunno… best case jail? Worst case, fucking strangers for money and snorting blow?"

My hand slams down on the table, causing bowls and utensils to clatter and all heads snap in my direction.

"That's fucking enough," I seethe. No one will talk about Bella that way, even if I'm furious with her. "If you have something to say, then fucking say it."

Bella looks at me with wide eyes, and I immediately become fixated on my meal.

"Why the hell are you defending her?" Rosalie screeches at me. I wish I have an answer for her very good question, but I got nothing. "She fucking crushed you! Or did you forget about that the moment you got your dick inside her again?"

I blush like crazy, and now Bella is the one slapping her hand down on the table.

"Don't fucking talk to him like that, Rosalie Lillian," Bella says. "Edward and I still have a lot to talk about, and it is none of your fucking business what we do or do not do. You don't have to forgive me, or consider me a friend again, but I'm not going anywhere so deal with it."

Bella practically sprints out of the dinning room. I fight every natural instinct to rush after her.

"I can't believe you let her move back in, Alice," Rosalie says, still enraged.

"It's pretty fucked up, sis," Emmett agrees. "Poor Edward. She's living in his old room? How is he supposed to feel about that?"

"I asked his permission, thank you very much, Em!" Alice huffs in self-defense. "If he doesn't have a problem with it, then why do you two?"

"Because we're the only ones who have any common sense!" bellows Rosalie. "Bella's a fuck up. A selfish fuck up. Eventually she's going to take off again without a word, and where will we be then? Huh?"

"Bella is my friend. My very best friend. And I know she isn't perfect, but I'll love her forever. She doesn't need my forgiveness, and I'll always be there for her," Alice yells right back. Things are quickly getting out of control, and I don't know how I feel about the words being thrown back and forth across the table.

"That's bullshit, Alice! It's like you are condoning her behavior. Like how I stupidly let her back into my life again when you two started college, even though I knew she was a terrible friend. I should have never talked to her again after she fucked my boyfriend!"

"Rosalie," Alice says in exasperation. "Let that go. You know that Bella didn't sleep with Jake when he was with you, so just shut up about it."

"Whatever," Rosalie scoffs. "The point is, she deserves to be punished after what she did to Edward."

"I think losing Edward is punishment enough," says Alice quietly. I stare at my twin, desperately attempting to read her thoughts, but I can't tell what exactly she means by this statement. "It would be one thing if you were upset with Bella leaving you, but Edward is a big boy, he can handle himself. He doesn't need you to defend him."

"I'm right here, you know," I say in irritation. I may be quiet, but I still don't like them talking about me like I'm not here.

"That's why I'm mad," Emmett puts in. "She was like my little sister, and she just took off. That's not cool. Plus, she hurt my little brother, and that's really not cool."

"Listen, guys," I say, trying to calm everyone down. "Just keep out of my business with Bella. You have every right to be angry with her, but she is back now. She lives here. You need to be polite. Or at least not openly adversarial."

Emmett pouts, Rose growls.

"Seriously, back off," I say with authority as I rise from the table. "I know what I'm doing with Bella."

"Really?" Rose asks, looking amused. I ignore her, trying to convince myself of the validity of my own words.

January 19, 2005

EPOV

"What are you doing this weekend?" I demand the moment Bella sets her bag down on our typical table in the stacks.

"Well hello to you too, ginger," Bella chuckles as I scowl at her. I hate my latest nickname. Shortly after Christmas break, Bella and I got into a huge argument over my hair color. She claims I'm a ginger, I deny her accusation adamantly pointing out that the odd shade is more brown then anything. Bella thinks my discomfort is amusing, and a new name was born. I miss Adonis. It's far more complimentary.

"Don't call me ginger," I insist.

"Ginger, ginger, ginger, ginger," she sings, sticking her hands in my hair and moving it in time with her stupid song. I try to be indignant, but I like the way she is touching me too much to mind.

"Seriously, Bella," I say when she removes her hands from my hair and takes her seat next to mine. "What are you doing this weekend?"

It has been almost four months since Bella's mouth was on mine, and she announced that we were friends. I struggle daily to respect her wishes, and keep our friendship platonic, but it was damn difficult.

She touches me too often and with too much familiarity. When she laughs, she touches my arm or places a hand on my leg. When we study late, she lays her head on my shoulder.

Our time together is still limited to class, the library, or the occasional meal. I desperately want to see her outside of school.

Plus, I've been spending more time with Alice's friend Kate. She is pretty, blond, and smart. She's a Biology major from Alaska. But I need to know there is nothing between Bella and I for sure before I ask out another girl.

"Dunno. If I had to guess, I would probably say that I'm going to go to a party at Jake's," she says, flipping through the latest novel she was assigned to read for her latest Lit class.

"Do you ever get bored of doing the same old thing?" I ask. Occasionally, I will go to a party if Alice, Jasper, and Emmett force me. I don't really like them much. Too many strangers make me uncomfortable, and girls tend to throw themselves at me. Luckily, my friend Ben has the same view of the party scene, and I am able to have a social life without going out every weekend.

"Every night is different, silly," Bella says with an eye roll. "There are always new adventures to be had."

"What about an adventure at a different party?" I ask.

"You going to a party, Edward?" she asks, feigning surprise. "But who will look after the library while you're away?'

"Cute," I reply, shoving her playfully as she laughs at me. I consider pointing out that she comes here almost as often as I do, but I let it slide. "My brother is having a party tomorrow night at his house."

"Emmett?"

"Yup, my one and only annoying big brother."

"So, the brother that lives with and is dating Rosalie Hale?" Bella demands, looking at me like I'm an idiot. Which I am. I totally forgot about Bella's history with Emmett's bitchy blond girlfriend. Although I don't know the whole story, it's clear that the two were once best friends before they got in some sort of fight over Jacob Black.

I really hate Jacob Black.

"That's the one," I reply, upset because I know there is no way I will get her there now. Bella hates the drama.

"You're aware that my life will probably end if I go to this shindig with you, right?"

For someone who hates dramatics, Bella is sure into hyperbole.

"Rosalie Hale will probably slaughter me the moment I step foot into her house. That bitch hates me and can hold one hell of a grudge," Bella says, shaking her head.

"So what did you do?"

"What makes you think I did something?" Bella asks, apparently aghast at my assumption. I give her a pointed look. She laughs before continuing. "Okay, stop looking at me. You're right, I did do something. But mostly it was just a big misunderstanding."

"How so?"

"Well, she walked in on me naked in Jake's bed and she assumed the worst."

I know Bella has been with a boy or two, but hearing her discuss her sexual past so blatantly makes me a bit ill.

"Holy fuck, Edward. Look at that look you are giving me! You assume the worst too!" Bella yells, slapping a palm down on the table.

"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me," I say in the worst defense ever.

But Bella laughs and punches me lightly in the shoulder. "You're the biggest dork I know. For your information, there was a perfectly good reason I was naked. I had just gotten out of the shower, and my clothes were in the dryer because Jake had pushed me into Boulder Creek so I was waiting for them to dry."

Rosalie's assumption doesn't seem that outrageous.

"Jake and I hadn't fucked since before he started dating Rose," Bella continues. I snap the pencil I'm holding underneath the table at her words, but thankfully Bella doesn't seem to notice. "He wasn't even in the room when she walked in. And yes, it looked bad. But come on! I was her best friend! She knew I was half living with Jake, half living out of my truck at the time. She should have believed me when I explained. But no. She just believes what she wants to believe, dumps Jake, and stops speaking to me. Though, I did start sleeping with him again after that. But there was zero cheating!"

There is so much about Bella's rant I have a problem with, I don't even know where to begin.

"Wait. Why were you living with Jake?" I ask, confused.

All the color drains form Bella's cheeks, and her eyes go wide.

"No reason," she says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. "Hey, have you done the bio homework yet? I fucking hate meiosis or mitosis or whatever the fuck we're studying."

"Isabella," I say sternly. "Why were you living at Jake's in high school?"

"I had nowhere else to go," she replies, shrugging.

"Where was your mom?"

"Dunno, Eddie," she said, angry with me all of a sudden. "Dropping acid at some hippy dippy commune and forgetting my existence? Fucking the president of the United States? Saving little AIDS babies in Africa? Who the fuck knows? She definitely wasn't here."

"So she just… left?" I ask, struggling to comprehend.

"Yup. Came home one day from school junior year to find an empty house and 200 bucks in cash."

I gape at her in shock. Bella's inability to trust suddenly makes much more sense. This beautiful, intelligent, strong girl has mommy issues and daddy issues. She drinks too much and smokes too often. She is creative, funny, and has never before really been loved.

I should run for the high heavens, but if anything these revelations only draw me in further.

Not knowing what to say, I grab Bella's hand and tug on it until she finally rises. I pull her into my lap. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I give her one hell of a hug. For a drawn out moment, she is tense under my hands. But when I don't let go, she gradually relaxes against me.

"Your mom is a big, fat, stupid bitch," I whisper in her ear as I cradle her to my chest. Bella lets out a half sob, half snort.

"You're so good at that," she says, hugging me tighter for a moment before pulling away so she can look at my face. There's a smile in her big brown eyes that wasn't present before my awesome hug.

"Good at what? Hugs?" I venture.

"Yes," she says with a laugh. "But also knowing just what to say to make me feel better. I don't talk about my mom much. Jake and his dad are really the only ones who know the details. Know that I'm unlovable."

My face falls at her words, and I glare at her.

"Kidding! Shit, lighten up," Bella says, shoving me in the shoulder as she unfortunately removes herself from my lap. Her voice is light, but I fear that is just how she sees herself. I have to bite the side of my mouth to keep form confessing my own love for her.

"So are you coming with me tomorrow night?" I ask.

"To Rosalie's party? Are you fucking serious?" she shrieks, eyes bulging out of her skull.

"Live dangerously."

"Where does your brother live?" Ben asks me Friday night as we drink pre party rum and cokes in my dorm room.

"On The Hill," I say, referring to the neighborhood just west of campus where many college kids live. The area is loud, the party neighborhood, and home to all the frat and sorority houses. Needless to say, it's not my favorite part of Boulder.

"Oh good," says Angela, talking a long drink. "We can walk."

"Hey, man," Jasper drawls, reaching an arm around my sister who is perched on his lap. "Pass the bottle."

I do as he ask, eyes darting towards the door every three seconds as I wait impatiently for Bella to appear. She is forty-five minutes late, and I fear that she's going to bail on me. Flipping open my phone, I send her a text.

_Where you at, gurl? _

Her reply is instant.

_Outslide keyz gog. Get me?_

"'Cuse me," I say, waving off the happy couples hanging out in my room. I half run down a flight of stairs to get to Bella quickly. Though she is obviously already wasted, I understand what see means in her texts.

I push open the door, looking around frantically for a sign of her.

"Yoo hoooooo." My head snaps down to see Bella sitting with her back against the side of the building. "Down here, pretty boy!"

I laugh, offering her a hand. She giggles, falling forward into me as she stood.

"You found me!" With a hand on either side of my face, she pulls my face close to hers. Her pupils are as wide as her smile. If I hadn't already had several drinks, I would probably be concerned. "Oh, I'm glad it's you. Wonderful, wonderful, Edward. Why are you so wonderful to me?" She is talking super fast, and I have a hard time following.

"Because I like you, Isabella. Very much," I reply, steadying her with my hands on her hips.

"No. You. Do. Not," she declares, smacking her forehead into my chest to punctuate each word. "Renee. The woman. Who pushed me out of her vagina. Does. Not. Even. Like. ME."

"I thought we established that she was a big, fat, stupid bitch. Her opinion's invalid. Hey, where've you been?"

"Dinner," she replies, playing with the buttons on my coat.

"With who?" I ask, immediately jealous of anyone who gets to spend time with her other then myself.

"The big, fat, stupid, bitch."

"She is back?" I ask, surprised. I didn't know she came back.

"I DO NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT." She glares at me with the punching face, so I cover her fists with my much larger hands. The door behind us flies open, and our friends come bursting out, laughing and hanging all over each other.

"Let's get to goin, ya'll," Jasper declares, arm raised as he leads the charge to Emmett house.

I keep an arm around Bella's shoulders as we follow the rest of the group.

"Bella? Are you cold? You're shivering," I say, laughing down at her as she shakes in my arms.

"Not cold. You give me the shivers when you touch me. How do you do that? Hey! A big, dark, tree. Come on!" Bella drags me over to said big, dark, tree, and we sit on a root. She starts rifling thought the bag at her hip, periodically handing me shit as she disregards it. By the time she finds the small silver box she searched for, I am holding a hair brush, a beer, her cell phone, and a pair of fake vampire teeth. I pop them in my mouth, and nibble on her neck as she giggles.

"Focus, Adonis." She opens the narrow case and thrusts it under my nose. "Get a whiff of these warlocks."

I inhale, instantly recognizing pungent odor of weed. It's a scent I have come to equate with Boulder. This town is like the pot capital of America. Though I recognize the smell, that is the extension of my marijuana knowledge. I am a nerd. A straight laced kid who had their first sip of alcohol the summer before I came to college. And even then, that was mostly because Esme gently encouraged me to attend a party in Forks with my siblings. She said that she was sure I would get alcohol poisoning and die if I got drunk for the first time in college. Little did she know, I accidently lost my virginity to my scary girlfriend I didn't even like that night.

"Northern Lights," she say, looking at the joint fondly. "An indica, sativa hybrid. High quality shit right here. Purchased special for Jake's birthday. So divine."

I watch in fascination as she puts the joint between her lips, flicks open her zippo. The flame illuminates her face, and she inhales deeply. The end glows red, and she extinguished the lighter, blowing out a big breath of smoke in my general direction.

"Ahhh…" she sighs, leaning back against the tree. She holds out her hand, and we both watch as the tremors gradually subsided. "There. Easy rollin."

She absently hands me the joint, and I hesitate before taking it between my thumb and pointer finger. I stare at it for a moment, not knowing what I want to do.

"Edward? You ok, buddy? Have you never smoked pot before? THAT IS SO ADORABLE! You are just too cute with your reading and your glasses and your studiousness. You're the hottest nerd I know." She is still talking super fast. Her behavior is a little alarming.

"I'm not a nerd," I defend.

"Yes, you are. Don't worry. I like you that way. Edward Cullen is pure. No drugs, no sex. It's refreshing. I don't know anyone like you. Aren't you glad I stumbled into your dorm room all those months ago? I am. Hey, the first time I smoked pot I was 13 and it was with Jake. Come to think of it, the first time I had sex I was also 13 and it was also with Jake. He's mad at me that I didn't invite him tonight and he really doesn't like you at all. But I do. And that's what matters. Hey! If you're not gonna puff it, pass it!"

I blink at Bella in shock, concerned. Never before have I heard her speak so much. Though I want to know everything about Bella, most of what she just said is downright disturbing.

Apparently, I hesitate too long, because Bella huffs in frustration and plucks the joint from my hand.

"Watch me," she whispers, staring at me intently. She takes a large hit, looks toward the starry sky, and puffs out three large smoke rings before deteriorating into a laughing fit.

"Impressive. Where did you learn that?" The movement of her neck as she smokes is entrancing.

"Practice." She puts out the half gone joint, placing it back in the case, and stands abruptly. "Come on, ginger, we have a party to attend."

I stagger to my feet, and we make our way to Emmett's.

"I can't believe you brought her," my brother says with a chuckle as he claps me on the back. "I can't believe she agree to come. This has the potential to be a great drinking game."

Jasper, Emmett, and I loiter by the bar in the living room, looking on in sick fascination as Bella and Rosalie face off. They are standing about eight feet apart, silently glaring at each other as the party rages on around them

"Here is the game." Emmett is always inventing games. It is great, though he wins much more often then I do. "Every two minutes that passes in silence, we drink. Every time Rose snarls, we drink. Every time Bella sways, we drink. Every time Rose says bitch, we drink. Every time Bella says cocksucker, we drink. If it gets physical, we drink twice. If they make up, we drink twice."

Twenty minutes and six shots later, Bella and Rosalie agree to part amicably and avoid each other for the rest of the evening. Things get hazy, and I lose track of Bella when Emmett enlists me to be his beer pong partner. Surprisingly, we win three times before Rosalie and Alice end our winning streak. It is probably shameful to lose to our sister and his girlfriend, but Rosalie is very provocative. It was distracting. Equally distracting is Emmett covering my eyes every time Rosalie moves.

Though I typically enjoy parties at my brothers, tonight is particularly good because I don't wondering what Bella is doing and who she is with.

These people genuinely like me. They think I'm cool, even if I don't drink very often, don't smoke, and like the peace of the library. I like the college version of myself, and other people like it too.

Even Bella. She says so herself.

As a dance party heats up in the living room, I am inspired to locate Bella when a scantily clad red head grinds her chest into my side.

I look in the three upstairs bedrooms, the two bathrooms, and circle the house outside before I get concerned. I trudge down the steps to the basement, dread and trepidation coiling in my stomach.

Turning the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I almost puke up all the alcohol in my system at the sight before me.

Bella is slumped against the back of an old couch, head lolling to one side, with her eyes half closed. Her arms lay motionless at her sides, and she is missing a shoe. Next to her is some guy in a leather jacket, his blond head attached Bella's neck and a beefy hand roughly paws at her chest.

Bella, with the muscle strength of a 2 month old, lifts her head for a moment, looking at me. "Edward," she moans, with a goofy smile before her head flops to the side again. Blinded by an alcohol-induced rage, I cross the room in less then a second and haul the fucking rapist off my girl.

"What the fuck!" he screams, whipping around to face me after he regains his balance. "Don't be a cock blocker, you little bitch. Get the fuck out of here."

"She's passed out, asshole! Leave her the fuck alone!" I roar back. Shy, nerdy, easygoing Edward has disappeared the moment I saw his hands all over her.

"Yeah, on my coke! She owes me. Now get the fuck out of here. I don't give a fuck if the little whore is passed out or not. It's all the same to me."

Without thinking, I pull my fist back and hit him square in the nose. We both howl in pain. Never before have I punched someone, and it hurts like a bitch. I cradle my wounded hand, my reflexes slowed down by the booze, and watch in horror as he straightens in front of me. His right hook seems to come at me in slow motion, and connects with my cheek.

I'm down like a sack of potatoes.

I shutter to think how much it will hurt in the morning, when the blessed, alcohol induced numbness wears off. The smug fucker looms over me, and a few drops of blood from his nose splatters on my forehead. I'm sure he's about to kick my face in, when he's suddenly ripped from my line of sight.

"YOU FUCKING HIT MY LITTLE BROTHER IN MY HOUSE, MOTHERFUCKER!" Emmett bellows, easily restraining the much smaller blond by the neck. "I OUGHT TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

I sit up and scoot to Bella who has fallen into a horizontal position on the couch. I faintly register Emmett's continued bellows, and Jasper's soothing tone, but mostly I just focus on Bella.

Her glazed eyes follow my movement as I get even closer. I place a palm over her cheek. She copies my gesture, her fingers weakly tracing my throbbing cheekbone.

"See, Adonis?" she says as her hand once again falling limply to the couch. "Unlovable."

I close my eyes and rest my forehead against hers. "Not true," I implore, knowing that she is already asleep. "I love you, Isabella Swan."

I don't know how long I sit like that, but eventually Rosalie interrupts my brooding.

"Edward," my brother's girlfriend says in a shockingly compassionate tone. "She can stay here tonight. Our roommate, Garrett, is never around. I'll take her up to his room."

"No," I say, waving Rosalie off and rising from the floor. "I'll take her up. Do you mind if I stay with her?"

"Not at all."

A few minutes later, Bella and I are settled in a foreign bed. Leaning heavily on me, Bella has managed to walk up two flights of stairs before flopping down on the bed. I remove her one shoe, feathered earrings, chunky silver necklaces, and sweater, leaving her in black tights and a long denim button up. By her head on the floor, I place an empty plastic trashcan and fill a glass of water that I set on the nightstand. She seems to sleep peacefully, but I become obsessed with her breathing. I don't know anything about cocaine, and I worry that if I fall asleep, her heart will just stop. I lay my head on her shoulder and place a hand over her chest, relieved that her heartbeat is steady, but not flying.

After about half an hour, the sleep talking starts. Most of what she mumbles is incoherent. I catch a few words here and there like "cheesy puffy", "big, fat, stupid," and "rose muncher". When her statements gain clarity, I listen with rapt attention.

"Edward in the mountains," she says so clear, for a moment I thought she has woken up. She follow this up with a "love… too".

I spend the next few hours all up in my head, silently freaking out about all I have learned today.

Bella's mom is back.

She lost her virginity at age 13 to Jake.

She is a pot connoisseur - except I pretty much already knew that.

Cocaine is something she doesn't mind doing, apparently.

Punching someone hurts.

Getting punched by someone hurts.

Bella may have heard me tell her I love her, and she may love me back.

I have no fucking clue what I'm doing.

The sun stretches across the plains in the east when I finally relax enough to succumb to sleep.

"Where the fuck is she, Rosalie?" an angry voice booms from below, shocking me out of sleep. I open my eyes to see Bella sleepily staring back at me, and it takes me a minute to remember how I got there and why my face hurts so much.

"Jake, calm the fuck down. She's asleep upstairs—"

Ominous, heavy thudding sounds below us as someone big ascends the stairs.

Bella reaches out and tentatively traces her fingers over my cheek. I only wince a little, and anger flashes in her eyes.

"Shit," Bella mutters as the memories flooded back, I assume.

I don't know what to say to her, and I really want to go back to bed, but both all options are abruptly taken away from me when the bedroom door slams open.

"YOU!" yells the massive Jacob Black. He pointed at me menacingly. "What the fuck did you let happen to her?"

I sit up and stare at him in confusion.

"Jake, please calm down," Bella pleads next to me.

Instead, Jacob goes a different route, letting out an enraged wail, and punching me in the bad eye, basically the same spot the coke fiend hit. I see stars, fall backward back into bed, and immediately pass out.

The sun is high in the sky, and I'm looking at lions doing it on the TV when I open my eyes.

"Sorry, man," says my brother from his position on the floor by my head. He has a huge bowl of cereal in his hands and shoves it into his mouth rapidly, his eyes never leaving his show. "Garrett came home and freaked about you bleeding all over his sheets, had to relocate you."

"Emmett," I say, my voice surprisingly calm given the circumstances. "What the fuck?"

"Now what exactly are you 'what the fucking' about?" he asks, still fixated on the large screen across the room. "That crazy girlfriend of yours? The cocaine use in my house? You punching a coke fiend? Getting punched by two different dudes in the same eye in less then six hours?"

"No. Actually, I was referring to the big cats having sex on TV."

"Oh," Emmett says with a chuckle. "It's Animal Planet. Best channel ever."

We watch in silence, and I learn that when a female lion is in heat, they mate constantly for two weeks. I expect Emmett to make some jokes about giving the pussycat's a run for their money, but he remains unusually quite. Occasionally, Emmett blindly sticks his spoon behind him, shoving cereal into my mouth.

Alice enters the living room to see Emmett feeding me. It's a difficult process because Emmett is flying blind. I have my tongue out, trying to direct the spoon to my mouth and mumbling directions to him incomprehensibly. The emergence of my twin shocks us, and Frosted Flakes end up on the couch.

"This," Alice says as she gestures between Emmett and myself, "is why I had to follow you two to Colorado. You're incapable of doing anything. Idiots!"

"Calm down, tink," Emmett says as Alice disappears into the kitchen. "I took great care of him while you were away. I fed him."

"I was gone fifteen minutes and he has cereal all over him," Alice rants as she returns.

"Can we not talk about me like I'm an invalid?" I plead, but no one pays any attention to me.

She sits on the couch, carefully placing my head in her lap. She puts an ice pack wrapped in a dishcloth cautiously on my cheek. The coke fiend did some damage, and Jacob opened a cut. Once she gets me settled, she forces three pills in my mouth, followed by a long straw inserted in a water bottle. "There you go, little twin. You should be good as new in no time."

I close my eyes as Alice rubs soothing circles on my shoulder. Thank God for my twin and her mothering.

"Poor Edward. If I were paying more attention, I would have figured out how to stop that. What exactly happened last night?" she asks.

"Bella was basically passed out," I say, all the anger I feel last night returning. "High, drunk, and on cocaine. That blond motherfucker was all over her."

"Aw. You are like a knight in shinning armor," replies Alice.

"Cocaine?" Emmett asks in disbelief, even though he already knows all this. "Shit, that's hard core. And scary."

"Yup," I agree. "Who was the guy?"

"This kid, James. Creepy motherfucker. He's a friend of Rosalie's friend Victoria. And he will never be welcomed back in our house again," Emmett assures me.

"I don't know what would have happened if I didn't show up," I say with a groan. "I can't even think about it."

"But you were there," Alice reminds me. I really don't want to talk about it anymore.

"What happened this morning, after… you know," I murmur, unwilling to say it because it's damn embarrassing.

"After Rose's pissy ex boyfriend sucker punched your lights out?" Emmett says, his voice fluctuating between irritated and amused.

"Yes Emmett, that is the event I'm referring too. Where's Bella?"

"She left with Black after we kicked him out. She was all apologies and fucking furious with him. She kissed your cold, clammy lips before she stored out of here with Black in tow," Emmett explains.

"Why did he punch me? How did he even know where we were?" I ask.

"That was my fault," Rosalie says quietly as she enters the room and slowing sits in a nearby armchair. "I called Jake."

"What?" my siblings and I all snap at the same time.

"I'm sorry okay!" she says, going on the defensive. "I obviously didn't know he was going to punch you like that. It's just that… I know Bella. She has been pulling shit like she pulled last night since we were in middle school, and Jake is usually around to save the day. I know Bella and I aren't friends anymore, but I still care about the stupid bitch. I thought I was helping."

I am in so totally over my head with Bella, it is ridiculous.

"It's okay, Rose," I say. "No problem."

"I thought Rosalie was going to attack him. It was a very tense morning. And a very tense last night. Hey, I'm glad you woke up," Alice says.

"Thank you, big twin."

"You're welcome, little twin," she reply, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

"On the plus side, you look badass," Emmett says, feeding me another spoonful of muchy cereal. "You should see your face. Who would have thought, this time last year, that our geeky, straight laced little brother would get in two brawls in one night. IT'S SO AWESOME."

"Emmett," Alice squeals, slapping him on the backside of the head. "He looks like shit."

"Don't worry," I say, patting her arm. "I'm not planning on making a habit of it."

"Dude, is Bella normally that out of control?" Emmett asks.

"No," I say vehemently before I have a chance to think about it. "I don't know. I have never been to a party in Boulder with her before. We normally just hang out in the library. I knew she smoked a lot of pot, but that's it."

I had a whole slew of revelations regarding past and present Bella last night. She is so complicated and sad. Bella Swan is drowning, and it breaks my heart.

"Holy fuck," Emmett says. "Edward's life is more interesting than mine. When did that happen?"

Alice laughs. "Emmett, that's all Bella Swan, not Edward."

My sister is right. Despite all the crazy, the punching, the drugs, my life is infinitely more satisfying then it ever was before. That doesn't change the fact that I'm livid with the same girl who makes my life so damn interesting.

* * *

**SO. What did you think? Shit got real this chappie, huh?**


	9. At the Library

**Good afternoon, all!**

**So due to the terribly cold weather, I have no class and therefore have a bit of extra time to get this chapter out to your earlier then I thought.**

**I bit of this is chapter 8 from Bella's POV.**

**Thanks to everyone hows been reading and leaving such lovely, insightful comments. I love you.**

**Thanks for reading, and I don't own.**

* * *

BPOV

December 21, 2010

Somehow, before returning home after two years away, I managed to convince myself that I would slip back into my old life with ease. I imagined that everyone would get a good look at new and improved Bella, and welcome me back into the fold.

I'm a motherfucking moron.

Rosalie's words at dinner hurt so much because she is right. I'm a fuck up who abandoned so many people in my life.

It's going to be hard work, proving I'm better now. Self-improvement is a work in progress, but I feel so different then I felt two years ago.

Needing to calm down after abruptly leaving the kitchen table, I grab a cigarette, and climb through Edward's bedroom window. The day is sunny, so most of the snow melted. The sun's well behind the mountains now, and the air is crisp, but I don't mind the chill. The roof outside Edward's window is one of my favorite thinking spots. Back then, we used to sit on this roof and watch thunderstorms roll in over the mountains. We would make out or sit in silence and just be.

I flick open my zippo, inhaling deeply as I light my cancer stick and close my eyes. Smoking is the last of my great vices. I can't recall the last time I got fall down drunk. Pot's been cut out completely. Drugs are out of the question. And really I only indulge in this last nasty habit when I need to calm down.

Edward sits next to me, and I feel his presence without even having to tilt my head to look at him.

"That's horrible for you, you know," he says, referring to my cigarette, just as he has so many times before.

"I never slept with anyone for money," I say in a rush, feeling like an idiot immediately. "That's not why I left."

"I know." He's not touching me. I wish he would touch me. "I get why you left. I think."

"You do?" I ask, turning to face him but he is staring at the mountains with the most heart breaking look on his face.

There is no way he could possibly know. No one knows. The one closest to knowing is Rosalie, but I didn't think she would say anything and she didn't know the fucking details anyway.

"You didn't want to be with me," he whispers. "I wanted more then you could give me."

"No, baby," I say in horror. He is only half right, but obviously understands nothing. "I left because I wanted to be with you so badly, it scared me. You did want more then I could give you, but that's on me. As long as I can remember, there has been this… weight in the center of my chest. This ball of absolute self-loathing and unworth. My own mother couldn't love me, Edward. So I thought there was something wrong with me. I felt like… I polluted everything I touched and I didn't want to ruin you."

"I know that too," he replies. "For years I tried to change your mind about that, but I just didn't know how. But you've told me a thousand times how selfish you are so if you really wanted to me, you would have stayed."

I laugh humorlessly. "Leaving was my one attempt to do right by you Edward. You were going to fucking put off med-school for me. It wasn't worth it."

"You were always worth it for me." Blindly, I grab for his hand because for the first time in the course of our relationship, I believe him. Edward doesn't pull away, and passively lets me thread my fingers between his.

"I'm glad you're happier with yourself, but I can't, Bella," he says after a few blissful moments of silence. He pulls away, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. "You broke me when you left. And I'm okay now. You left and eventually, I figured out how to be okay."

"That's what I thought I wanted," I say in misery. His words slice a wound through my chest.

"Mission accomplished, I suppose."

"I'm different now. Not like, fucking magically a normal person. But I feel better. I don't hate myself quite so much anymore," I say, my voice panicky and desperate. "And I miss you. I want you."

"You can't always get what you want."

I finish my cigarette, and Edward goes back inside before I completely break down.

Everyone goes out that night. I decide to stay in with a couple bottles of wine. So much for new and improved sober Bella. It's too difficult to cope with my multitude of mistakes tonight. I don't even bother with a glass as I sit cross legged on the couch/bed, and I chug right out of the bottle. Absorbing the sounds of the soft reggae playing on the stereo like comfort food, I steadily get wasted and brood.

I tick off the things I need to do after Christmas in my head. Get a job. Start going to a shrink. Go visit Phil. Find a way to confess all my sins to Edward.

Eventually, I get bored and twirl around the living room, giggling like a goddamn lunatic. After both bottles are gone, however, I'm back to mopey, and I can't keep my eyes from leaking. Blinded by my tears, I wander back to Edward's room. I like it here; I feel connected to him. I flop down on his bed, blubbering hysterically. One arm hangs off the side of the bed, and I feel the empty bottle slip from my grasp. My eyes drift close as I hear it roll across the floor.

Warm hands around my waist wake me, and somehow I end up on my back. It's a struggle to open my eyes, but its well worth it because when I do, my own personal savior is staring down at me.

Without thought, I raise my hand and run my fingers through his hair. "You're sooo bea—utiful…" I slur as I spread my legs to accommodate his hips as he falls forward onto the bed.

He doesn't say anything, just stares at me with that Edwardy intensity that once made me uncomfortable. Now it just makes me warm. It's like I've summoned him from my dreams.

"So beauuuutiful," I repeat in awe. "So pretty. So good."

"What are you doing in my bed?" he asks, his voice low, dangerous, and fuck all sexy. I wrap my legging clothed legs around his hips as I arch my back. Edward's drunk too, and I momentarily forget that everything is different now.

"Sleeping," I croon, trying to pull his body down onto mine. "Sleep with me Edward. Come on."

"Bella," he admonishes. "I shouldn't."

"Yes, you should," I explain, quickly losing patience as he remains unmoved, hovering above me.

"False."

"Yes! Because you're my Edward, and I'm your Bella." Isn't this obvious? Why is he being so stupid? He's supposedly the smart one.

Edward groans loudly and collapses into the crook of my neck, "You can't say stuff like that to me. It's not fair. I can't… think right when you lie like that. It's the same thing when you sleep talk."

"Not lying." I succeed in getting him to collapse on top of me. His arms wrap around my head, and my arms wrap around his back. We hug tightly, and I silently sob into his neck. I wish he could know how I feel through emotional osmosis because I'm too weak to conjure the words. I want to tell him I love him, but every time Renee falsely told me she loved me flashes through my head, and the words get stuck in my throat.

I'm not a big crier. Generally, no liquid escapes my eyes unless I'm violently angry. But now I'm shaking in Edward's arms, and drenching his sweater. First Alice, then Edward. Sobbing all over the Cullen twins is becoming a habit apparently.

Edwards drags me up the bed, so we both lie with our heads against the pillows. He pulls me into the nook of his neck, stroking my hair and making soothing noises in my ear. I'm probably really alarming him. He's never seen me cry like this. I'm the queen of internalizing and suppressing every uncomfortable emotion.

And right now, I feel so lost. The last time I felt like this, I ended up hitchhiking across the country.

I can't lose Edward, but if he is as smart as I think he is, he'll have nothing do to with me.

"I'm so sorry!" I hiccup through my sobs.

"I know, Bella, I know," he whispers in my ear. "Please stop shuttering, love. You're scaring me."

His use of the familiar nickname immediately calms me. I was afraid I would never hear him call me that again. It doesn't escape my attention that he still doesn't forgive me, but that's all right. I meant it when I told him I'm willing to work for his forgiveness.

I want him to kiss me so badly.

"Everyday was so hard," I mummer, still sniffing slightly but at least my words make sense. "Being away from you."

"I know," he says again, his thumb stroking my cheek. "It's the same for me."

"I can't even really believe you're here," I basically whimper into his chest.

No more words are spoken, and moments later we fall asleep. I wonder if Edward is as confused by the events of the last two days as I am.

* * *

January 26, 2005

I avoid Edward for grand total of five days after the punching incident. Mortification and guilt keep me far away. It's wrong. I fucked up, and I shouldn't be avoiding him but he doesn't seem to want to see me either.

This whole situation is really Renee's fault. Everything is always Renee's fault somehow. She seems to be the only person in my life who has the ability to affect my emotions so drastically.

Phil appears to be a decent guy. He is nice, kind to me and generous enough to pay for my college, even though I barely speak to him. It is clear that he loves Renee, the poor fool. I know it's only a matter of time before Renee gets bored playing house and disappears, leaving her doting husband and her fuck up of a daughter behind.

Phil is a family man, and he needs to believe that Renee has learned from her past mistakes and is ready to settle down for real. I am Renee's main weapon to convince Phil that she is a different person then she was when she abandoned me three years ago.

I would never put up with her little game if I weren't so desperate for the money. I feel like a whore. Worse than a whore. I would rather sleep with faceless men, incapable of getting it without paying, than let Renee use me that way. In theory.

I go to dinner at their new house before attending the party with Edward at Emmett's, and Renee announces that we need to spend more time together.

"Isabella, we just don't see enough of you!" she says in a falsely sweet voice. Everything about this woman is different then the mother I once knew and loved. When I was a little kid, she was my best friend. In retrospect, this was because she never really knew how to be a mother, but when I was young I loved my life and my mom. Somewhere along the line, she started to see me as burden and stopped loving me.

The woman before me is dressed in khakis and a navy sweater set. Her light brown hair is teased and styled. Nothing remains of the hippie chick with her flowing shirts and love beads. I'm the only evidence of her former life, and now she is trying to change me too.

"I'm busy," I sat, keeping any emotion out of my voice. The only way to get through these dinners is to become a zombie. "School is really tough this semester."

"I know, darling," she says, giving me a smile and patting my hand. It's hard work not to cringe under her touch. _Tuition, tuition, tuition._ I chant in my head to keep my shit together. "And that is exactly why we have decided it would be for the best if you lived at home next year."

I stare at her blankly, having no fucking clue what she is blathering about.

"You mean with Billy?" I ask, confused. The Black house is the closest thing I have to home outside of Hallett. How the hell would that force me to see Renee more?

Renee lets out a semi hysterical laugh, glancing nervously at a confused looking Phil.

"Bella, you just have the most unique sense of humor," Renee titters. As realization dawns, I look on at her in horror. "I meant you would live here. With Phil and I. I know that you are planning on moving in with Jake next year, but that really isn't appropriate and this way we can spend some quality family time together."

What the fuck?

Inappropriate?

Family time?

What the fuck?

"No," I say quietly as my fork clatters to my plate. "I'm moving in with the boys. With Jake, Quil, and Embry."

"Honey, we really want you here. We need to be a family again," she says sweetly.

"No. I'm in college. It isn't normal or necessary for me to live at… home." I choke out the final word.

"Well, I just don't see how you are going to afford to live on the Hill," Renee says, sounding kind when she's being anything but. "We really want you here so we just won't be paying your rent."

I almost empty the contents of my stomach all over Renee's perfectly laid out dining room table. Though I still work for Billy a couple days a week and could afford to feed myself next year, there is no way in hell I can swing rent on my own. Living with Jake in a house is cheaper then living in the dorms, but still more then I can afford.

I am totally fucked.

I spend the remainder of the meal in tense silence. Renee and Phil chatter about the weather and Phil's job and church, W.A. things that have turned my mother into a stranger. When I am finally dismissed, I thrust my arms into the sleeves of my leather coat with shaking hands.

There is no anger yet, only fear. I cannot live with Renee again, especially knowing with out any doubt that she will leave at some point. She will assassinate my soul here. I will literally wither and decay.

"Isabella," Renee says quietly, approaching me without the shadow of her husband just as I am about to slip out the ornate front door. "I know you don't like it, but Phil wants a family. I can't show him that I can do family without you here."

"Who the fuck are you?" I say with a harsh whisper as I shove her would be comforting hand of my shoulder. "Suzie fucking Homemaker?"

"Bella—" she admonishes before I cut her off.

"I don't even know who you are anymore. And I sure as fuck am not living here next year," I say, the fear slowly being replaced with anger and determination.

"You will, young lady. I am your mother and you will do as I say."

"Mother," I snort. "Right. I think you lost that title when you abandoned me. Or maybe it was earlier when you stole my first real boyfriend. Or maybe it was even earlier then that when you dragged me across the country and robbed me of a real childhood."

"Don't be absurd," Renee responds with an eye roll. "I apologized for all that. And Scott was far to old for you anyway."

"And far to young for you!" I cry out, my voice rising. I take a big breath to calm myself, not wanting to draw Phil into our argument.

"I'm doing this for us, Bella," she says, attempting to take my hand. I once again shove her away. "Phil is a good man and he will give us a good life. He doesn't ask for much in return."

"When did you become such a gold digging whore?" I snap, opening the door behind me.

"Call me names all you want, Isabella," Renee says, her voice eerily calm. "That doesn't change the fact that you will have no where to live next year."

"We shall motherfucking see," I respond, before stepping out into the crisp Boulder night.

I drive the rumbling old Chevy out of Boulder Canyon, seething and plotting as I go. I really hate that woman and Phil by extension. She is insane if she thinks she can control my life that way.

Barreling along in my truck, I make an abrupt decision to stop at Catacombs, a bar downtown. I glance at the leather watch on my wrist as I park before walking towards the entrance. It's already 9:37, and I am supposed to be meeting Edward for pre-gaming before going to Emmett's party, but I need a drink real bad.

I hand my fake to the bouncer without even the slightest bit of trepidation. Jake and I have been hitting the bar scene in Boulder since we were 16, and the thrill of doing some illegal has worn off.

It's still early so I'm able to get a seat at the bar fairly easily, much to my relief. I just need a couple of drinks to help me get back to myself before I meet up with everyone. It won't do to let any of them see the sniveling pile of weakness Renee turns me into, especially Edward. That boy already sees way too much.

"Whiskey sour," I tell the bartender as I sit on the stool, and light up a cigarette. I sigh deeply, relaxing for the first time in hours.

"Do you want to open a tab?" the bartender asks my with a charming smile as he hands me my drink.

"No," I reply, reaching for my wallet to get some cash. "I won't be here—"

"Put it on my tab, Laurent," says the boy sitting next to me. I jump slightly at the sound of his smooth voice. I didn't see him there before he spoke, and his sudden appearance is unsettling.

Continuing to coolly smoke my cigarette and betraying nothing of what I'm feeling, I turn to the stranger and nod my thanks. He has straight, proportional features and small blue eyes. His blond buzz cut makes him look too sharp, predatory. But he is undeniably good looking.

"So Bella Swan likes her whiskey, huh?" he says with a smirk as he pulls his stool closer to mine. "Bad ass."

I study the stranger with narrowed eyes as I continue to calmly smoke my cigarette. His use of my name is creepy as fuck, being as I don't fucking recognize him. Taking another deep drag, I raise an eyebrow at him.

"You went to Boulder High," he tells me with a smirk.

"Go Panthers," I reply dryly.

"Roar," he says.

"Okay, stalker boy," I say with a chuckle to hide my discomfort. "Thanks for the drink. Now who the fuck are you?"

He laughs loudly, throwing his head back.

"You're feisty," he says. "I like that."

He eye fucks the shit out of me, and I completely lose patience. This dickwad thinks he can say whatever he wants to me, just because he purchased my drink. And that is a no go.

"I'm about two seconds away from raising the feisty bar and dumping this drink all over your lap," I growl out with a glare. "Don't make me ask again."

He is grinning by the end of my mini rant, and this only pisses me off further.

"James," he says, holding out a hand that I cautiously accept. "I think you know my friend, Victoria?"

"Ah," I say, relaxing slightly. "Victoria. How is that fiery bitch? I haven't seen her since high school. Still attached to the vagina with Rosalie?"

James laughs loudly again, and I can't help but smile back.

"Her vagina is attached elsewhere these days," he says lewdly, waggling his eyebrows at me.

"Gross." I snort into my drink as I roll my eyes. I cringe when my straw slurps air, signaling the end of my drink. I want it to go on forever, and I am nowhere near ready to mingle with my college friends.

"Another?" James asks as he finishes his own beer.

I nod and smile sweetly, battling my eyelashes ever so slightly. He eyes widen as he desperately flags over the bartender. Setting my empty drink down, I smirk to myself. Boys are so damn easy.

"Shots?" he asks after my second whiskey sour is in hand. I nod enthusiastically.

I down two doubles in quick succession, sighing in contentment as I start to get my buzz on.

"Damn, girl," James drawls. "What's your rush?"

"Places to be, my man," I say, lighting another cigarette. "And I want to be good and plastered when I get there."

"Plastered? So its just alcohol you desire?" He has a twinkle in his eye that makes me curious.

"I don't really have any options at the moment," I say slowly.

"And if you had any other options?" he asks suggestively. I really hope he isn't talking about sex. Not only am I totally not in the mood, but I don't want anyone who has been anywhere near Victoria's snatch. Nasty.

Glancing over both shoulders, he scoots closer to me, showing me a little bag of white powder in his hand.

Excellent.

"Cheers to that!" I say joyously, raising a final shot to my lips before following James to the bathroom.

Doing coke lines with a random off a toilet is really not classy, but I am having a bad fucking night.

With a final snort, I close my eyes and revel in the rush. I know it's stupid, but tonight I just need that little something extra to make me feel all right.

"Fuck," I say, as we emerge from the bathroom. "I've gotta go."

"Where yah headed, pretty lady?" James asks, tweaking his nose.

"Party with some people," I reply, dawning my jacket as we make our way outside through the now crowded bar.

"At Rosalie's?" he asks hopefully. He is kind of a creepy motherfucker, what with his knowing everything all the time.

"Yup," I reply, popping the p.

"Well, maybe I'll see you there," he says with a wink before disappearing down the street.

And I do see him later that night. And he gives me more coke. And then he gets in a fight with Edward.

Lord, what a cluster fuck.

I am so beyond embarrassed. The whole situation is mortifying, from the coke use to the passing out to letting Edward get hurt.

Oh, and then there is Jake. Furious, over protective Jake, punching the boy that protected me that night.

Jake is so angry. And rightfully so. I was out of control. The whole night was reminiscent of my wilder days, something that Jake and I both thought I'd grown out of. Plus, Jake is firmly against any drug that doesn't grow in the ground. Damn hippie.

I am pretty upset with him myself. He fucking punched Edward. It makes me sick to think about.

I am a motherfucking coward, hiding from Edward. For five days, I don't go to bio, I don't go to the library, I barely spend anytime in Hallett.

I just can't face him.

Edward, inexplicably, likes me. He thinks I'm the bees fucking knees. But now, he sees the train wreck I truly am, and it depresses me terribly.

Edward has given me a whole new reason to want to be someone else. Someone better for him.

It's probably for the best. Hopefully it will end his ridiculous little infatuation. That would be a good thing, yet it still makes me feel like shit.

So I avoid him for five days until Kate Harrison, Alice's friend from the first floor, approaches me outside Norlin Library where I am enjoying a nice cigarette between classes.

"Bella?" she asks timidly, sitting across from me at my picnic table. We are friends with the same people, but that is where our similarities end. Like Angela, Kate is academic and shy. But unlike Angela, she is boring as shit. Angela is quirky and witty. Kate is… just so damn vanilla. Though I do like her better then Lauren, queen of the bitches.

"Sup?" I reply with a head nod as I exhale a thick cloud of smoke.

"How are you?" she asks, clasping her hands together on the tabletop. She is bouncing her leg and emanating stress waves. It's weird as fuck.

"Fucking dandy," I say, flipping my hood up and glaring at the sky as big flakes of snow start to fall. "I hate the cold."

"I'm from Alaska," she says with a nervous giggle. "This is nothing."

"I see," I reply, having no fucking clue what else to say, as I step on my smoked-to-the-filter cigarette. "Snows a lot there."

"Sure does."

I light another cigarette, just so to have something to do with my hands. She is so obviously nervous; it's rubbing off on me. What the fuck can she possibly want? I know it isn't just simple chitchat. We've had a thousand opportunities to bond, what with Alice being the little social coordinator that she is. Kate wants something from me, and I have no fucking clue what it can possibly be.

"So… ah… Bella… what's going on with you and Edward?" she stutters, mouth stumbling over the words. I raise an eyebrow at her, and she swallows loudly. This poor little strumpet is terrified of me. It's kinda cool.

"What do you mean?" I ask, shocked by the direction this conversation is going.

"Are you… is he like… are you two… like… a couple?" Kate's words cause my mouth to fall open in shock.

"Uh…" I say, horrified that people would even think such a thing. Edward's puppy dog crush might be apparent, but I thought my disinterest is equally as noticeable.

"It's just… we have this lit class together and… I think… well… He asked me out. On a date, today… I don't want to step on anyone's toes or anything and we are sort of, kind of, friendly… I guess… so… yeah." Kate is running her hands through her hair. The gesture, combined with the awkward stuttering, reminds me so much of Edward, it's ridiculous. Of course they should fucking date. They are fucking made for each other.

"Naw, bre," I say as I wave my hand dismissively. "We just buddies. Consider this my blessing. Go forth and sin no more."

Kate laughs and smiles, tucking a strand of so-pale-it-might-actually-be-white hair behind her ear.

"Thanks, Bella." She really is pretty, with her delicate features and bright blue eyes. "That's what I figured. I just wanted to check."

Kate and I chat pleasantly for a couple more minutes before I have to leave for class. The girl really isn't that bad, and perhaps under different circumstances we could have been friends. But the moment I round the corner of the library, the pleasant smile slips off my face.

Angrily, I light a third cigarette, puffing on the stick frantically.

I should be thrilled that Edward has a love interest. He really is an excellent guy. A regular knight in shining armor. He is a motherfucking genius with a sense of humor to boot. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen is a goddamn catch. And that is just the personality pros. His chiseled from stone good looks and perpetual sex hair make him the most eligible bachelor in all of Hallett, if not the motherfucking planet.

Kate is nice. Boring as fuck, but nice. Alice likes her. She seems perfectly… nice.

I should be happy for my friend. But I am sure as fuck anything but happy. I'm fucking pissed the fuck off.

I have not seen Edward in days and already he is asking girls out on dates. Logically, I know I have no ownership. Logically, I know that Kate can give him all the things I can certainly not. Logically, I should be happy that he is moving on from his silly little crush on me.

I never have been a particularly logical creature. Selfishness, that is more my thing.

So instead of leaving him alone, like a good person would do, I am overcome with the urge to see Edward.

After my last class of the day, I storm up the stairs in the library, thrilled to see him seated at our table, crouching over a book.

"Where the hell have you been?" I demand when he glances up at me in alarm as I shove him in the shoulder.

"Around," he replies tersely, sticking his face back in his book.

"Oh really? Because you sure as fuck have not been around me," I huff, violently ripping off my jacket and slamming my backpack down on the table. It's a good thing we managed to discover this little corner of the library because no one is ever around, and there is no need to be quiet.

"Bella," he sighs in exasperation, still not fucking looking at me. "What do you want me to say? You were high on coke and almost got raped practically in front of me!"

"Okay, drama queen," I say, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not being fucking dramatic." Holy shit. Edward is pissed. He never curses. And it's fucking hot.

"Worse things have happened. I was fine," I dismiss.

He turns to gape at me in shock, exposing his face to me for the first time. I take in his battered eye, and I am immediately in his lap, tracing my fingers over the purple bruising and bloody cut that mar my lovely boy's perfect skin.

"Oh, Edward," I whisper, my face is only inches from his. "Look at you."

He mumbles something about "coke fiends," but my presence flusters him, just as it always does.

"It works for you though," I say quietly. "You look like a badass." He really does. It's making me hot.

Edward stares up at me silently as my finger continues to run over his swollen eye.

"Jake got you good," I say with half a laugh. There is really nothing funny about Edward getting hurt, but the staring is freaking me out. I need to break the tension. And though I don't actually remember what happened with James, Alice and Rose filled me in on the details. And although James got Edward good, Edward got James right back.

Punching and protective Edward. Sexy.

Edward doesn't seem to like my observation at all, because his strong arms lift me off him, gently pushing me away from his lap.

"That's nice," he snaps, turning back to his book. "Really great."

"Come on," I say with a groan. "I was kidding! Shit. Don't be such a princess."

"I'm not being a goddamn princess." He is seething. It's annoying me. Why can't we just go back to the way things were? I am such a fucking moron. This is exactly why I could never date Edward. He is so good, right down to his bones, while I am damaged goods.

I really do feel bad that I managed to turn Edward into a punching bag.

"Can't we just put the whole evening behind us?" I say, grabbing his hand as I pleaded with him. I gave him the eyes. He is such a sucker for the eyes. "Pleeeeease?"

He is trying desperately to stay mad, but the corner of his mouth twitches. Ah, progress.

"Is that something you do often?" he asks, referring to the cocaine consumption, I assume.

"Naw," I say, trying to sound cheery. "Not anymore. I was just having a bad night."

"Any reason in particular?" he asks, the stress apparent in his voice. He is tapping his pencil against his book frantically, causing the muscles in his forearms to move. He has really nice forearms. I don't recall ever being into that particular body part before, but I can't seem to stop staring at his.

"I don't want to talk about it," I retort, getting cranky when I think about my living arrangement next year.

"But we are friends," he says.

"Oh no, don't you go pulling that friend card shit on me. I gave you my friendship, and I can take it away like that!" I snap my fingers, well aware that I am acting like a total bitch.

Something about my conversation with Kate, the knight in shinning armor routine, his black eye, and those damn forearms are making me lose my shit.

"Don't be a bitch," he says with a resigned sigh.

'Don't call me a bitch," I counter as I watch, fascinated, as his jaw clenches. I really want to lick it.

"Bella, you are the worst apologizer in the history of apologizers. I don't think I've ever heard you say 'I'm sorry'."

I just glare at him because he is right. I never say those words. They're empty. Regret is useless. Renee is always saying sorry, but it changes nothing.

"Come on," he says, bringing his face close to mine again. "Say it. Out loud."

I try not to smile through my scowl.

"Three little words. All you have to do it say 'Edward, I'm sorry.' It's easy."

"You want me to say sorry?" I clarify.

"Yeah. Or thank you. Thank you is good too." He is giving me that goddamn crooked grin again, and I am suddenly struck with inspiration.

"You want sorry?" I said, raising from my seat and stalking forward like he is my motherfucking prey. "You want thank you? Fine."

I drop to my knees, crawling towards him under the table.

"What are you doing?" he asks, voice breaking as my hands snake up his calves and pry apart his knees.

"Saying thank you. Or sorry. Or whatever."

"Bella…" he says, a warning in his tone. I palm his zipper, beaming like a lunatic when I find he is already hard. "What are you… holy mother!"

My fingers trace the ridges of his stomach before flipping open the button of his corduroy pants and yanking down the zipper. Steadying myself with my hands on his thighs, I nuzzle his belly before working my way down.

"Oh… god… Bella," he continues to whisper frantically. "Are you crazy? We are in the fucking library!" he hisses.

"It's our secret spot, Cullen," I say, looking up at him from underneath the table. I can't tell if lust or panic is the prominent emotion in his wonderful green eyes. Poor guy, he obviously isn't used to this sort of thing.

Girls in Forks are obviously fucking retarded.

"No one's ever around," I whisper, staring up at him shyly as my right hand sneaks into his boxers. He groans, throwing his head back.

"Bellaaaa… god… can't… I…I have a date! With… someone."

I smirk, pleased that I am the only girl he is thinking about.

"I know, baby," I croon, finally freeing him form the confines of his clothing. Holy Krishna. That is one impressive penis. "Good thing this is just thank you. A one-time deal, never to happen again. Got that Edward? It means nothing."

With my lips hovering over the tip of his shockingly large cock, I glance up at him, pleased to see him nod stiffly. His brow is furrowed, and he is giving the edge of the table a fucking death grip.

I swirl my tongue around his tip, licking up the moisture there, coaxing a loud moan from Edward.

"Edward, baby," I whisper. "Keep your voice down. We're in a library for God sake's."

His voice quiets, and I enjoy the feel of his thighs shaking beneath my palms.

A moment before I take him into my mouth, I consider the morality in what I'm doing. Edward is trying to get over me, and this is not going to help him, the romantic fool. Edward is going on a date with Kate, a very nice girl. Edward deserves to be happy.

I am a terrible person, but in the moment, I really want to suck his dick.

Selfish, selfish, Bella.

So I set to work, showing Edward another of my fabulous talents. His hands find their way into my hair as I suck and lick and revel in the delight of making Edward feel good. My head bobs up and down while Edward makes some ridiculous noises, trying his very best to stay quiet.

God, he tastes quite good.

With one hand, I grasp the base of his cock while the other gently massages his balls.

And he squeaks.

Fucking _squeaks_.

He really is so adorable.

I suck, hard, hallowing out my cheeks and drawing him in deeply.

He totally comes apart after that, and I greedily swallow everything he gives me. Edward shutters as I clean him up and tuck him back into his pants. With as much dignity as possible, I crawl out from under our table with a smirk on my face. My body is humming, acutely so between my thighs. I want more of him, but this will just have to be enough.

I am thoroughly pleased with my apology/thank you. After standing, I try to move back to my seat, but Edward snags my wrist, surprising me. He looks up at me with ridiculously appealing, green, tender eyes that stir… something within my cold, dead soul. It's equal parts comforting and terrifying.

"Thank you, Edward," I say quietly, offering him a small smile as I blush. I reach out to stroke his battered eye again. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

Edward still shows no sign of speaking so I lean down, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his slightly smiling mouth. He looks utterly bemused and completely elated as I move away. Ignoring my now drenched panties, I sit in my usual spot next to Edward with the corner of the table between us, and pull out my bio book.

"Right," I say, all business. "Let's do some fucking biology! You need to help get me an A on this next test."

Edward blinks rapidly at me a couple times, gives me that panty-dropping grin, and does just what I ask.

* * *

**So... the thank you/apology lemon. What do you think?**

**And Edward has a date with Kate?**

**What will happen next?**


	10. Date Night

December 22, 2010

After the dinner from hell, I find it hard to focus on the reading I have to get done before the start of next semester in a room that is a shrine to my old life with Bella. I find myself drifting in memories both good and bad. She has me tied in knots, and I read the same paragraph three times before I sort of understand the meaning. Grad school is fucking hard, and there are at least nine words in this paragraph alone I don't recognize.

I wonder where Bella disappeared to after I left her alone on the roof.

I whack my head rhythmically against my desk both as an attempt to dispel thoughts of Bella from my brain and to punish myself for my inability to do so.

Emmett finds me like this.

"Holy shit," he bellows from the doorway, causing me to falter in my head whackery. "Don't damage that big brain of yours. Chicks dig nerds."

"What the hell do you want?" I ask, trying to sound angry but coming off as whiney instead.

"I haven't seen you in a couple of days. Just though we could have a brotherly chat," he replies, plopping dramatically backwards onto my bed. I mean Bella's bed. Shit, this is weird.

Sighing heavily, I slouch over to the bed and lay face down next to my brother. "I don't feel like fucking talking," I mutter into the pillows. Bella's pillows.

"How are you doing?" Emmett's tone is soft and serious.

"I don't even know," I reply.

"She slept at your place last night." It's not even a question, and although I know he isn't judging my decisions, he assumes we fucked again and is concerned.

"It was blizzarding. I couldn't let her drive back to Boulder in that ancient truck of hers," I say, sounding defensive.

"And I'm guessing she didn't sleep in Ben's bed," Emmett says. His correct assessment of the situation is a little shocking. When did my brother get so perceptive?

"Nothing happened," I say petulantly.

We sit in silence for a while, and I wonder what Emmett's thinking.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"Just don't want you to get hurt, bro."

"I'm not going to get hurt, because I'm done with her."

"I've heard that before."

"I mean it this time."

"Like you meant it when she got you punched out and did all that coke? Like when you tried to date someone else? Like when she screamed at you in the hospital sophomore year? Like when she left you that one summer?"

"I mean it this time," I repeat lamely.

"I'll believe you when I motherfucking see it," huffs Emmett, clearly irritated with me.

"I thought you liked Bella."

"I do. Did. Do. Whatever. She's a funny motherfucker, but unstable. She's fucked with your head for years, and this time she's gone too far."

"You can't be a dick to her, Em," I say seriously, remembering my conversation with Bella in the car. "Ignore her, whatever, just don't be cruel to her. She's hurting too."

"Fine. I can't control Rose, though."

"I'm not asking you to. Bella can handle Rosalie."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"Fuck. You're right. The mood in here is morbid as fuck. We need to go out."

"Emmett…" I groan, knowing that my brother is as stubborn as Alice or I when he gets an idea in his head. I really don't think I can handle whatever he has in store for the evening.

"No arguments. Rose and Alice have tickets for some girly opera or play or some shit in Denver. Tonight is the perfect boys' night!" he declares, whipping out his phone. "Are you up for all the fellas?"

"You mean like Garrett and Jake and Sam? Hell no!" I reply in horror. All I want to do is sit and have a personal pity party.

"Okay, okay. Keep your lab coat on. Just Jazz then." As he finishes talking to me, he pushes a button on his cell and lifts it to his ear.

Across the hall I hear an electronic version of "The Yellow Rose of Texas."

"What up?" I can hear Jasper answer in his bedroom and roll my eyes when I realize exactly who Emmett called.

"Dude. What are you doing?" Emmett asks.

"Chillaxin." I am hearing this conversation twice, in real time and through Emmett's phone. How can this pair of morons be my best friends?

"Same. You should come on over to Edward's room— shit. I mean the stranger's room, and we can plan our night."

Stranger. He's calling Bella a stranger.

"Dude, I'm comfortable. Let's just continue this conversation where we are," suggests Jasper.

Emmett and Jasper plan our evening via the phone while sitting less than twenty feet from each other. I roll my eyes and silently judge their obscene laziness. I have no hope of saying no to both of them.

We end up bar hopping on Pearl Street, as is the norm for them. They pour alcohol down my throat and don't let me talk about Bella. They try to keep me from thinking about her too, but they aren't very successful in this goal.

I've lost track of how many bars we've visited and where we are now, when I give in and finally talk to a girl - mostly because Emmett makes me.

"Tell me, Kitty," Emmett says loudly as he leans on the bar and slings an arm around my shoulder. "My little brother here is well on his way to being a doctor. What do you think about that?"

"I think I like a guy with a brain," Kitty titters, touching my shoulder and batting her eyelashes at me. She has light hair and blue eyes. She's too tall, and her boobs are too big. She wears tight, shiny clothing. Her hair is slick, and she wears too much make up. I don't particularly like the heavy scent of her perfume. But she is like the sixteenth girl Emmett has foisted upon me, and I'm tired of fighting.

I give her a forced smile that feels like more of a grimace and go back to staring into my beer. I've had at least eight tonight and several rounds of shots, so I can't even really see this girl's face. Emmett has paraded a plethora of girls in front of me tonight, hoping one of them will catch my eye.

He is failing, and I'm brooding.

"Your hair," she says, running her fingers over my scalp, "is such an unusual color. It's awesome."

"Uh…" I really want her to stop touching me, but I've lost the motor skills to wrap my tongue around the proper words.

She continues to touch me inappropriately while I stare at Emmett and Jasper across the bar. Jasper shakes his head, looking both amused and chagrined. Emmett glares at me and makes lewd hand gestures, indicating that he wants me to both get with the girl and that he'll beat me if I don't.

So I let the foreign woman's tongue invade my mouth and return her kiss with lackluster enthusiasm. It's too sloppy, moist. I'm more focused on the sound of Emmett's applause and Jasper's whoop than poor, unappealing Kitty.

Who's named Kitty these days, anyway?

Her hands run over my chest, down my waist, and I feel a bit like I'm going to puke. It just feels wrong.

Once upon a time, I tried to get over Bella this way. Right after she left, I let Emmett take me out on the town. I went as far as taking the girl home, but I really only felt worse in the morning. I didn't talk to anyone for a full week after that whole fiasco.

I would not be repeating that mistake.

So I pull away from Kitty.

"What's the matter, baby?" she coos, batting her eyelashes at me. I put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from leaning back towards my lips.

"Excuse me," I mutter, attempting to be polite. Without looking at my roommates, I rise from my stool and make my way to the exit.

I only get a block before they catch up with me.

"Dude," Emmett says, slapping a hand on my back. "What the fuck? She was hot. With two t's!"

I just shake my head and attempt to walk in a straight line. I feel myself wobble, but I'm pleased that I'm making such quick progress towards home. Towards Bella.

"Leave him alone, Em," Jasper says in his low, calm, Texas voice. "He's had a rough couple of days."

"Thank you, Jasper," I say, surprised that my voice comes out so loud.

"You need to get laid," Emmett continues as we walk at a furious pace.

"I could very… easily… get laid." Though I talk loudly, my speech is disjointed and slurred. Damn it, Emmett. I think of Bella, who is probably asleep on our couch. It would be so easy to bring her to bed and lose myself in her beautiful body. Fuck the complications. I want her.

"That's horribly unhealthy. She's horribly unhealthy. You need a new woman," Emmett booms as I almost fall off the curb.

"How the fuck would you know what I need?" I ask, getting belligerent.

"You don't need Bella," Emmett says, pissing me off and making me even more irrational.

"I always need Bella," I reply, shoving him off the curb.

"Alrighty, fellas," says Jasper, forever playing the peacemaker and stepping in between the two of us. "That's enough of that. Edward, neither of us thinks going to Bella is a good idea, but we know you're a grown-ass man more than capable of making your own decisions."

"Thank you," I mumble.

"What the fuck ever, Jazz."

Unsurprisingly to everyone, I set off to find Bella the moment I get home. She isn't on her couch, though I do find an empty bottle of wine. Jasper and Emmett look at me with pity as I basically drag myself up the stairs using the banister.

She's in my bed, and it takes very little convincing to lay my body over hers. She cries in my arms, and I tell her I love her.

I fall asleep feeling like every move I make is a mistake. 

* * *

January 29, 2005

EPOV

"So do you know what field you want to go into? In med school?" Kate asks me as she absently stirs the hot chocolate in front of her. Our date has been going fine, I suppose. I don't really have a lot to compare it to, but fine seems like an accurate description.

We ate dinner at a Mexican place on Pearl Street, the walking mall in downtown Boulder. After dinner, we browsed a bookshop, but Kate doesn't have much interest in books so we ended up at the Laughing Goat, a coffee shop a few blocks away. It turns out Kate doesn't really drink coffee either. Nor does she like tea.

Bella would have ordered a Venetian cream, had she been with me. She calls the sweet soy drink the "nectar of the gods". Except the weather is cold, so she might have opted for a nice green tea instead.

Goddamn it, I have to stop thinking about Bella. It's very difficult, being as the last time I saw her, she had her lips wrapped around my dick.

"Uh… I think I want to go into surgery," I reply, admonishing myself for not focusing on my date. I do like Kate. She is sweet and kind. I like that her pale hair is so different than that of my obsession. I like that she is a genuinely nice person who is very focused on school.

"Oh really?" she asks with a slight frown. "What makes you want to go into something so time consuming and… bloody?"

I laugh a little, thinking she is joking. I don't know how she expects to be a doctor without some exposure to blood, but the look on her face tells me she's serious.

"My dad," I reply, after my awkward burst of laughter. "He's the chief of surgery in my home town so I have spent a lot of time with him, seeing how it works. I think I would really enjoy it. What do you think you will go into?"

"I'm not sure," she says, taking a small sip of her drink through puckered lips. "Maybe optometry. Or dentistry."

"Eyes or teeth, huh?"

"Yes," she says with a smile. She really is quite pretty. Not Bella drop-dead sexy, but very good-looking. I mentally berate myself for comparing the two. Bella and her stupid blowjob make it impossible not too.

Kate starts to talk about the wonders of eyes and teeth while I zone out. Thinking back to earlier in the week, I picture Bella's face as she smiled up at me from in between my legs. I remember the warm and wet and the overwhelming sensations when she first took me into her mouth. It freaked me out, being in the library, but the danger of discovery only added to the pleasure. Never before had I experienced anything like that.

I really love her, so much.

Goddamn it.

And now, just thinking about it has inspired an uncomfortable situation growing in my pants, so I clear my throat and focus on what Kate is saying.

Though there are many awkwardly silent moments, overall I have a good time. Kate and I really do have a lot in common. We are both total science nerds and are from tiny towns no one has ever heard of.

"So, what are your plans for tonight?" I ask as we wait for the Skip Bus that will take us back to campus.

"Oh… uh… nothing," she says, looking embarrassed. "I didn't make any plans."

"Right. Well, my brother is having some people over to his house tonight. For like a party type thing."

"That sounds fun. I'm sure you'll have fun," she says brightly, shuffling her feet. I am trying to invite her to come with me but am obviously failing. This is unbearably awkward.

"Yeah, probably. Did you want to come with me?" I ask, messing my hair.

"Yes!" she says enthusiastically, causing us both to blush and grin. "I mean, sure. If you want me to."

"I do," I say with a smile.

Forty-five minutes later, we walk through Emmett's front door to the sounds of music playing and laughter. Bella appears to be entertaining everyone with a story, but words don't make sense to me when she looks that beautiful.

She sits on the couch next to Alice, smiling and gesturing with her red cup. Her hair flows freely around her shoulders, and on her delicate neck are several silver chains. Her black jeans hug her curves as she crosses her legs, and her low cut grey shirt makes my mouth water.

I shake my head to clear it of the Bella-induced fog and focus on Kate as we loiter awkwardly on the periphery of the living room.

"Edward!" Bella says, smiling. She is the first to spot me, and immediately she is on her feet, staggering over to me and throwing her arms around my neck. "Yeah! You're here!"

I hug her back and chuckle, forgetting once again about my date. Her hug lasts longer than is appropriate, and I clear my throat as I release her.

"Hello, Bella," I say, glancing nervously at an unhappy looking Kate.

"Hi," Kate says, taking a step closer to me and greeting Bella.

In a very tense moment, Bella's eyes harden as she slowly turns her head to look at my poor date. I pray that Bella behaves herself. There is really no reason for her to be jealous. She doesn't want me, but she doesn't seem to want me to want anyone else either. It happened last Thanksgiving, and I hope it isn't about to happen again. It's really not fair to me. Or Kate.

"Hi there, Katie," Bella says, her voice shocking friendly. Almost terrifyingly so. "You're looking lovely tonight. It looks like you need a drink."

And with that Bella grabs Kate's hand, dragging her to the kitchen.

Blinking in surprise, I turn my attention to the rest of the people in the living room. It really is a small get together tonight, and I prefer it that way. I don't like huge parties with a lot of people I don't know. They make me uncomfortable.

Tonight, it's just the regulars.

Jasper, high as a kite, has his arm around Alice, who is talking ardently with Angela as Ben watches on with a goofy grin on his face. I wonder if the two of them are officially a couple yet. Rosalie is perched on Emmett's lap in an armchair, and they are own little world. Lauren is flirting outrageously with Emmett's roommate, Garrett. The remnants of some drinking game are laid out on the coffee table before them.

"Come here, little twin," Alice says, beckoning me with a finger after she finishes her conversation with Angela. I do as she asks, sitting on a vacant loveseat next to her.

"Hey, big twin," I say as we do our secret handshake. It was developed when we were kids and is our secret signal that we have something to discuss in private. Alice initiates it tonight, so I lean forward, letting her whisper in my ear.

"How was your date?" she asks as I roll my eyes. This is hardly secret handshake-worthy.

"Fine. Kate is really nice," I reply in hushed tones as the rest of the room laughs around us at who knows what.

"Are you going to go out again?"

"I don't know." I think about Bella and how badly I need to get over her. "Probably."

"Do you have any chemistry?"

"Chemistry?"

"Yeah, you know. Spark. Electricity. Attraction. You know, chemistry."

I remain quiet, thinking about Bella and the shivers.

"Oh, baby, what did Bella do to you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, guilty and blushing.

"She did something. Recently. Since the last time I saw you."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Alice," I say, sitting up straight, indicating the end of our little discussion. I am saved from further torment when Bella and Kate reappear, both smiling, much to my relief. Kate makes a beeline for the spot next to me. Bella saunters in, handing me a drink before she sits down next to Angela.

"Whiskey and soda," she says with a wink. "On the rocks."

I smile at her, nodding in thanks as I take a long sip, smacking my lips in contentment. Bella knows what I like.

In more ways than one.

Damn it, I need to stop thinking about the library incident.

More people I don't know trickle in, and I find myself deep in a football discussion with Emmett and Jasper. I am not a big sports guy, but Em and Jazz seem to delight in educating me.

I listen with half an ear, managing to nod and agree at appropriate times. My attention is firmly on the makeshift dance floor. Bella has put on some ridiculous oldies from the 50's and is dancing sock hop style with Angela and Alice. She twirls around the room with her eyes closed, singing along at the top of her lungs. Bella really isn't that graceful, but she is still gorgeous as she stumbles around.

Great Balls of Fire comes on, and I somehow find myself on the dance floor, laughing as Bella shakes her hair in my face and does that jazz hands thing. She manages to get me to move like I am Grease Lightning. People really get into the old school music and everyone dances exuberantly. I try to help Bella out a bit, pulling her into my arms and attempting to swing dance with her. But she is so damn bad, and I'm laughing so hard that we fail miserably.

"God, you suck at this," I yell in Bella's ear so she can hear me over the music.

"Fuck you, ginger," she laughs back, tossing her hair around and snapping her hips from side to side. Miraculously, she is staying on her feet without my assistance for more than two minutes. "I look hot and you know it."

She does a disco move and promptly trips over her own feet, falling forward into me. Both flushed from the pack of bodies and movement, I feel so warm and happy. The alcohol makes me forget I'm not supposed to be touching Bella, and I lose track of Kate.

Eventually Bella pulls me out the back door, and we let the winter air cool our heated skin.

"Peeps really like their oldies," Bella says, lighting a cigarette. "Everyone is so into it!"

It's true. Usually, when Emmett tries to throw a dance party, he ends up the sole person on the dance floor, looking like an idiot. Tonight, people are really letting lose.

"That's all you, Isabella," I say with a laugh as I close my eyes and the world spins. "You were having so much fun, people gravitate towards you."

"People like you."

"Right. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately," she agrees with a solemn nod. "Hey, how was your date?"

I blink at her for a moment, not having any idea what she is talking about. Then, I remember Kate, and I feel so guilty for neglecting her.

"Good. It was good. A little awkward, but good. We have…. some stuff in common."

"You don't sound overly enthusiastic there, ginger," she says, elbowing my side and almost making me tip over.

"No. I mean yes. I don't know. She's just so…" I can't think of the right word to describe Kate.

"Vanilla?" Bella suggests.

I laugh and nod because as usual, Bella is right.

"Well, I think you should go for it," she says, breaking my heart a little. Part of me wants her to get jealous and throw a fit, but she is acting perfectly supportive, just as a friend should.

"Really? Why?"

"You are both dorks, that's why. Really, flippin' hot dorks. But dorks, none the less."

"Dorkism as the foundation of a relationship," I murmur thoughtfully. "Nice."

"It makes more sense than the shivers," she replies, puffing on her cigarette with renewed vigor. Though I don't condone her bad habit, she sure looks sexy with the narrow stick in her small hands. She brings it back to her luscious lips, reminding me of something else she recently did with her lips, and I have to look away. "I'm no good, Edward. Date Kate."

I follow Bella inside when she finishes her smoke, feeling quite sad. The moment I step through the threshold, I make eye contact with Kate, who looks so unsure and worried. I make a point to spend the rest of the evening close to Kate. We don't talk much, but at least I am there.

February 25, 2005

"Dude," Ben laughs as I swipe my key card that to lets us into Hallett Hall. "I have never seen someone fall down so much playing tennis."

"It's a gift," I agree as we tromp up the stairs.

"Can sucking be a gift? It really seems more like a curse."

"I've never played before! We don't have country clubs in Forks." I am normally pretty athletic, but something was just not working as I ran around the court.

Lately, I've just been feeling off.

It might have something to do with Kate and our break-up. We dated casually for a couple of months. As hard as I tried, I really wasn't that into it, and she sensed my disconnect. She was jealous and suspicious of my friendship with Bella. I can't really blame her. Though nothing is going on with Bella, we are very close, and my feelings for her have not changed. Kate finally had enough and dumped me. Though I'm not really too broken up about it, I feel guilty for basically using her to get over Bella and hurting her feelings.

The whole situation just has me feeling uncentered.

"I played for my high school and the Y, you idiot."

Ben and I continue to give each other shit until we reach the common room, where I see my dark angel asleep on the couch. It's a Friday night, so typically she would be out and about, destroying herself with booze, drugs, and sex with strangers.

And as sick as it makes me, I can't help but feel anything but love for her in this moment.

Her face rests on her hands, and her sweatpants-clothed legs are pulled to her chest, which moves rhythmically with her breath. She looks peaceful and young. I remember how much I enjoy watching her sleep.

"Damn," Ben says, shaking his head at me. "You've got it bad."

I don't bother denying the truth. It is painfully obvious to everyone, Bella included, that I remain crazy in love with her. I probably should be embarrassed because it is so damn pathetic, but I'm not.

"I'll see you later, man," I say, waving to Ben as he turns left to walk down the hall to the boy's side. When I hear the door shut behind him, I crouch down next to Bella, running my fingers through her hair and tucking it behind her ear.

"Hi," she says, blinking the sleep from her eyes rapidly. Feeling guilty for waking her, I pull my hand away, but Bella reaches up, grabbing it with her own and keeping it pressed against the side of her face.

"Sorry," I apologize, though I'm grinning like an idiot so I probably don't look genuine. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay," she says, her voice slurring with sleep.

"What are you doing out here?" It's pretty late, and she looks so tired. Why isn't she in bed?

"Sexiled," she explains, and I nod in understanding. Several times a week, Jasper and Alice kick one of us out of our rooms. Though it is disgusting to think about, Bella always hangs out in my room or I in hers while they get it on. Sometimes, Bella even sleeps over (in Jasper's bed, unfortunately), or I sleep in her room (Alice's bed, equally as unfortunate). But without being sexiled all year, Bella and I wouldn't be as close as we are.

It is really no wonder that Kate dumped my ass.

"How long?"

"Hours. It's goddamn ridiculous. I was gonna go to the library, but it's so cold and snowy, I just didn't have the energy." Bella sits up as she speaks, stretching her arms above her head and causing her shirt to ride up. The pale skin of her exposed stomach entrances me for longer than is socially expectable.

"You look like you need to sleep," I say, running my thumbs under her eyes as I worry about how much she is partying. Since the cocaine incident and blowjob incident, she has barely been around, and I assume she is living her wild life without me to drag her down. Bella seems distant and lost, but I am powerless to do anything about it.

Plus, every time I see her, I feel the memory of her lips on my cock, and I turn into an incomprehensible idiot. But now, it seems like we are getting back to normal. I can't decide if I am pleased or not. I desperately want our relationship to change, but I am terrified of losing her. There is the ever-present fear that I will push her too far, and she will be gone.

"Can I crash with you?" she asks with an unsteady voice and wary eyes.

"Of course."

We enter my room in comfortable silence. Bella and I don't feel the need to fill the quiet with useless words. Our silence has never been awkward, and it feels good just to have her around me.

She looks so sad, and I feel so helpless.

I retrieve a sleeping bag from my closet. I keep it there for these occasions. Bella refuses to sleep on Jasper's "danky-ass sheets." She's a smart girl. I straighten Jasper's hastily made bed and lay out the sleeping bag. I fluff the pillows, wanting her to be comfortable. She often teases me for being such a neat freak, but I can't help it.

"There you go," I say, turning to look at Bella, who is lingering by the door. She eyes the bed with distaste. "What?"

"Nothing," she says with a shrug.

"I'm going to brush my teeth," I tell her, grabbing my toiletries and heading for the bathroom. And, as is usual these days, I try not to picture her going down on me.

She hasn't slept over since the blowjob to end all blowjobs. In the library. Of all places. But I know Bella well enough by now to not expect anything in the future.

Though it might not have been the blowjob that kept her away. I think she was trying to respect my relationship with Kate, if you could even call it that.

I brush my teeth and wash my face, returning to my room in less than ten minutes. I expect Bella to be all tucked in and halfway to dreamland when I open the door, but instead she is sitting cross-legged in the center of my bed. The overhead light is turned off, and the small bedside light cast shadows on Bella's face. She looks so small and insecure.

"I'm not going to give you a BJ," Bella says in a rush as I close the door behind us.

"Okay…"

"You like sleeping with me, right?"

"Uh…"

"I mean, you like holding me? Do you sleep okay that way?"

Sleeping together without doing anything sexual is becoming our thing, apparently. And though I would love the sexual component, I just really want to be close to her.

"Yes. I sleep great that way."

"Me too." She shuffles under my blue comforter, rolling off to the side and scooting to face the wall. I remain immobile at the end of the bed. She is so confusing, but I want to do nothing more than what she asks.

In my haste to get in bed with Bella, I nearly faceplant when my foot catches the edge of my dresser, but somehow I make it without injury. Crawling in next to her, I struggle to keep my penis under control and to maintain some space between our bodies as I bring the covers over us. But Bella is having none of this. Sighing dramatically, she grabs my hand and brings my arm around her. I scoot closer to her body and hold her in my arms, as per her request.

There is no chance I am going to ever be over her. I am a moron.

She relaxes with her back against my chest as she brings our joined hands to her chest. We both sigh in contentment, despite the fact that she doesn't love me, and that my hard-on is digging into her back.

"Goodnight, Edward," Bella whispers.

"Goodnight, Bella," I reply.

As I fall asleep, I can't decide if I will be stuck in limbo with Bella forever or if I am actually making progress with her.

"WAKE UP, DARLINGS!" my sister screeches, violently waking me in the morning. During the night, Bella had turned in my arms. Her head rests on my shoulder, her hand lies over my heart, and one of her legs is between my own. I was having one steamy sex dream, and I have probably been rubbing myself all over her inappropriately. But I have no time to process anything, because when I open my eyes, I am met with the sight of Alice sitting on the end of my bed, shaking her head knowingly.

"Alice," Jasper says from across the room where he is digging through his closet. "You're being creepy. Leave them alone."

"I'm so not being creepy," Alice says, indignant. "I'm never creepy."

"You're always creepy," Bella huffs from under the blankets. When Alice appeared, she had squeaked and hid under the comforter. She is blushing furiously, and it makes me smile.

"Do you remember what we are doing this morning, little twin?"

"No, big twin. Enlighten me," I reply.

"Breakfast and then house hunting!" she says, clapping her hands together in delight as I groan. It's going to be a very long day. Emmett, Alice, and I agreed that we all want to live together next year. Joining us, of course, will be their significant others. Though it will be a little weird for me, living in a house with a bunch of couples, I don't think it will be that bad. Jazz and Emmett are definitely my closest friends. Alice and I practically share the same brain. And Rosalie… well she is fine, I suppose, as long as I don't have to be alone with her for prolonged amounts of time.

Alice starts babbling about all the places we are seeing today, and I glance down fondly at Bella at my side. She is so beautiful, especially when she blushes.

"What are you doing today?" I ask quietly as Alice continues to flit around the room and chatter.

"Nothin'," she says with a smile. "Want me to save you from the wackos you'll be living with next year?"

"Yes, please."

"Fine. You've convinced me. I'll come."

We meet the rest of the gang at Lucile's for breakfast. It's a couple blocks from Pearl Street and in the general neighborhood where we are looking to live next year. Bella convinces me to split an order of beignetswith her, even though I don't normally like anything sweet in the mornings. I owe her for agreeing to come, though, so I don't mind.

"Please tell me that she's not living with us next year," says Rosalie when she and Emmett arrive. "Edward I can handle, but she is a no go."

"Nice to see you, Rosalie Lillian Hale. You're looking particularly hag-like this morning," Bella drawls with a fake smile.

"Seriously," Rosalie says, filling a cup with coffee as she sits down. "What is she doing here? I thought we are only looking at three bedroom houses. What - are she and Edward going to share a bed? That is going to kill the poor guy when she brings home her random dudes."

Bella rolls her eyes, and I clench my fists under the table.

"Oh please," Bella snaps back. "You have had way more random fucks then me, so you can take your superior I-have-a-serious-boyfriend-now-so-my-past-slutting-doesn't-count attitude, and shove it where the sun don't shine."

"That's enough, you two," Jasper interjects with his freaky ability to calm people down. "I thought y'all were getting along much better now."

"She started it," Bella says petulantly as I chuckle.

"Relax, Rosie," Emmett says, kissing her cheek and keeping her from snapping back at Bella. "It's just the five of us."

"Where are you living next year, Bella?" Emmett asks after we all order.

"In Hallett," Bella replies.

"You're living in the dorms as a sophomore?" Rose says with an evil laugh. "Ew."

"Actually, I'm RA'ing," Bella replies smugly to the general shock of the table. Bella has already informed me that she is going to be a residence assistant next year, and I am not surprised she got the lucrative gig. RAs are paid in room and board, so Bella will be able to live in the dorms next year without Renee footing the bill. Plus, Phil is quite proud of the responsibly Bella is taking on, so everyone is happy.

"You're going to be an RA?" Rosalie asks skeptically. "You're going to bust little freshmen for smoking pot? Who the hell gave you that job?"

"I can be very charming, Rose. You know this," Bella sighs. I'm glad Bella will be an RA next year. It means that she has more responsibility and therefore less time to party. Although, I do worry that I will see less of Bella next semester. We have no classes together and will be living farther apart, but I try not to dwell on it.

"So if you aren't living with us," Rose continues with narrowed eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Well, Lucile's is my favorite breakfast place, and I was invited," Bella replies, reaching up to mess up my hair, causing me to grin.

"What does Edward's girlfriend think about this?" asks Rose.

"I never had a girlfriend." Kate was never really my girlfriend. Just a girl I was seeing as a distraction from the one I really want. If I was smart, I would eradicate Bella from my life completely with the hope that it would help me move on, but she is basically my best friend. I can't imagine my life without her.

"Fine," Rose huffs. "What does Kate think about this?"

"I have no idea," I reply with a shrug. "I haven't talked to Kate in a couple weeks."

Bella blushes, and I try not to stare at the pretty color in her cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me, Emmett?" Rose yells. "Now I look like an idiot."

The pair continues to argue as Bella and I silently communicate how ridiculous they are until our food arrives.

After breakfast, we tromp all over downtown Boulder. It snowed the day before, but in typical Colorado fashion, the sun is out in force this morning, and all the snow melted away by eleven. If we were in Forks, the snow would linger indefinitely. This is much better.

Even so, Bella uses the wet ground as an excuse to hold on to me. She links our arms, her mitten-clad hand resting on my forearm. We walk along in our own little world. Bella makes me laugh with snide little comments about my future roommates. I make her smile when I tell her how beautiful she looks with her cold-induced rosy cheeks.

It feels like we are as much of a couple as Em and Rose or Jasper and Alice. But, we're not, and I have to just live with it.

Alice is a little drill sergeant, marching us around and asking each real-estate agent a million questions. We look at three houses in the downtown area that are okay before heading to Goss Grove, a neighborhood just north of campus that Bella claims is her favorite part of Boulder.

All six of us walk into the first house we visit on Goss and immediately fall in love. It's a three bedroom, three bath with a backyard and a large basement. Rosalie likes the two-car garage. Alice is attracted to the wooden floors and all the wall space she longs to decorate. Jazz and Emmett plot to turn the basement into a game room. My favorite part of the house is actually the large back deck that is surrounded by trees. Bella, whose opinion doesn't really count to anyone but me, runs her hands over the appliances in the spacious kitchen. Though it is slightly out of our price range, the five of us come from painfully wealthy families, and it is not hard to convince our parents that this perfect house on Goss is worth every penny.

That afternoon, we sign the lease. Next year, the Goss house will become home. I pray that Bella will frequent its walls as well.

* * *

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	11. Dance, Dance

**Thank you all so very much for bearing with me. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm feeling all unsure about it, so let me know what you think.**

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* * *

December 22, 2010

"This can't keep happening," I murmur into Bella's hair in the morning. Of course I ended up in bed with Bella after a night barhopping with Emmett and Jasper. I should be more surprised, but I'm not.

Bella is obviously already up; I can tell by her breathing. It's slower, deeper when she is asleep.

"I know," she whispers back, kissing my palm that rests in front of her face. Once again, we wake up spooning.

"I don't know what to do," I confess, making no move to relinquish my hold on her. I'm tried. Bone weary of fighting - with her, for her, against the pull she has on me. I'm at a total loss.

"Me neither. It's like we're stuck in limbo." She traces patterns on my forearms, and I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation. "Unable to go back, uncertain how to move forward. I so desperately want to move forward with you, Edward."

I almost tell her I want to move forward with her as well, but I hold my tongue. Emotional Edward wants it so badly, to forgive all her sins and to take her back. But at the moment, logical Edward is winning. Logical Edward remembers the pain she caused, remembers how much of a struggle it is for years to love someone who didn't even love themselves.

So I remain silent. I truly have nothing to say. I'm not even used to her being back yet, and I'm terrified that she'll disappear the moment I get acclimated to her presence.

"You said you love me." Bella voice is so quiet, I only realize she actually speaks because I feel her lips move on my skin. I wish I could see her face, but there will be no clues there as to what she's thinking. Bella has always been a complete mystery to me.

Also, I wish I hadn't fucking told her that last night. Had I no dignity?

"My love has never been in question," I reply.

"So you still love me then? After all this time?"

Her voice is so hopeful I feel terrible about pulling away, but I do it, because talking about love with Bella is just too painful. She whimpers pathetically as I sit away from her against the headboard, viciously pinching the bridge of my nose and squeezing my eyes shut.

"Does it even matter?" I reply tersely without even opening my eyes. I hear Bella furiously shuffling around in the bed.

"IT'S ALL THAT FUCKING MATTERS!" she exclaims, startling my eyes open. Her face is beet red, her eyes shine, and her jaw is clenched in her rage. She has turnedto face me and sits cross-legged across from me. A sheet is wrapped around her naked torso and our knees touch. I don't recall getting Bella's shirt off, but at least we didn't have sex. Bella sputters incomprehensibly for a moment before taking a huge breath to steady herself. "Have you really changed that much in two years? I don't recognize this dark, cynical person you are now. Saying that love isn't important."

"Dark and cynical? Yeah, that tends to happen when the love of your life vanishes!" I yell right back. I can't fathom the audacity of Bella. She isn't allowed to be mad at me for changing. It's her fault I'm like this anyway.

With my words, all the fight goes out of Bella, and she collapses forward with a frustrated wail. Her naked back is completely exposed, and I stare avidly at her lower back dimples as I struggle against my body's natural response to her.

"I've told you, a thousand times, that I should never have done that. I should never have left. Especially without talking with you about it." She sits up abruptly, the fire back in her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest, preventing her sheet from falling. Unfortunately. "But I can't bring myself to regret it totally, Edward. I really figured some stuff out."

I look at her skeptically.

"Really! I'm better now. I know I'm not forever broken. I see a shrink every week." This is all well and good, especially the therapist bit, but I'm still not convinced that she has really changed.

"How many men have you fucked in the last two years?" I demand, even though I really don't want to know. The number is bound to be in the hundreds.

"Really?" Bella looks both terrified and livid at the same time. She grabs my discarded long-sleeved tee, yanking it over her head. I love her in my clothes, damn it. "I mean, fucking really? That's the first question you have? I'm trying to bear my goddamned soul to you, and that's the first question you ask?"

"Yes. It's important." With arms crossed over my chest, I lean back against the headboard and steady myself for a number that is sure to slay me all over again.

She sighs heavily, looking to the ceiling and shaking her head.

"In the last two years? Three," she whispers finally, thoroughly shocking me. My mouth drops, and I just stare at her for a second. Although three is a much lower number than I anticipated, it still drives me insane with jealousy. I fear I might vomit.

"Who were they?" I ask quietly, unable to even look at Isabella in my clothing.

"Edward…" Her voice is desperate and needy, but I shy away from her touch.

"I want to know," I insist. Still she doesn't answer for an excruciatingly long moment.

"One I picked up in a bar. The usual story. I was wasted. It was in a dirty bathroom. I hated myself afterward and missed you so much I thought I was going to fucking die. And the other…" she trails off, looking guilty. "Well, you're the third of course."

"Bella," I say through clenched teeth, because I know what's coming. "It was him, wasn't it?"

A tear rolls down her flaming cheek, and my heart breaks all over again. I didn't think it is possible to feel this miserable. Even though I know she is about to confirm my deepest fears, I'm not ready for her answer.

"Yes, Edward." I'm out of bed and slamming the bathroom door behind me the moment the words leave her lips. I place my hands on the counter and lean over, breathing heavily.

My limbs shake with rage.

Bella is the shaker in this relationship.

And in that moment, I am so furious with her, so hurt, that for the first time since meeting her, I legitimately don't want to see her. Maybe ever again.

But of course, a second later the door opens and Bella enters, timidly approaching me. She reaches a tentative hand towards my back, and I jerk away.

"Don't fucking touch me—"

"Edward—" she interrupts.

"I fucking mean it. Get the fuck out," I interrupt right back. I'm yelling at her now, and I can tell that I'm scaring her. I'm not a screamer. This is totally out of character, and I am alarming us both.

"Edward," she tries again, really crying now. I'm still not used to seeing her cry, but her tears do nothing to quell my rage.

"DON'T TOUCH ME," I bellow, whipping around and glaring at her. Bella retreats, slamming her back against the door. I take a deep breath as my hands fist in my hair. "Please," I say, turning away from her. "Just go, Isabella."

I don't know if I'm relieved or upset when I hear the door quietly shut. I do know that I feel the loss of her departure acutely.

* * *

May 13, 2005

After my last final at the end of freshman year, I follow the sounds of bad pop music to my big twin's dorm room. It resonates all the way in the common room, and part of me is scared of what I will find.

It's our last night in the dorms. We have until tomorrow evening to move out, and then tomorrow night Alice and I will take a plane back to Forks for the summer. Emmett's lease doesn't end till August, and he has a job at the rec center, so the lucky bastard won't be living at home this summer.

Though, like many, I'm feeling nostalgic about the move out, mostly I'm just depressed that I won't be in Boulder for the summer. It just went by so damn quickly.

And, if I'm being totally honest with myself, I have to admit that I am bummed to be leaving Bella. For the last few months, there has scarcely been a day that we have been apart, and the thought of separation for several months is painful.

I push open the door to room 233 W and laugh out loud at the sight before me. A cyclone appears to have torn though the small room. Their stuff is everywhere, half in boxes, half randomly thrown around the room. I can't even see Bella's bed, and Alice's desk is equally buried.

The only clear space is the center of the room where Alice and Bella are dancing exuberantly to Fall Out Boy's latest whiny, unimpressive CD. I know it's not Bella's taste, so she must have been catering to my sister.

They are dressed equally bizarrely. Bella is in fishnets, tiny green athletic shorts, a white wife beater, her fake vampire teeth, and a furry hat with earflaps. Alice looks like a French maid with a pink-feathered boa and some sort of Scotland Yards police hat. Each has an open bottle of champagne that is doubling as a microphone.

"Alice!" Bella yells through her laughter, removing her fake teeth to talk. "I don't know the words to this crap!"

"Just listen, Bella!" my sister responds as she shimmies around Bella. "It's catchy as shit. Totally easy to pick up on."

I laugh as Bella attempts to sing along with Alice. She gets the chorus half right before she and Alice collide. They both go down, hard, and are unable to get up because they are tangled together and laughing too hard.

"What the fuck?" Jasper silently appears behind me, joining me in stunned observation.

At the sound of her boyfriend's voice, Alice's head pops up from the pile of limbs and feathers.

"Jasper!" she squeaks in delight, and in her rush to stand up, Bella takes an elbow to the chin.

"Watch it, you cock juggling thunder cunt!" Bella yells, her language only gets more colorful the more she drinks. "That fucking— Edward!"

She interrupts herself when she sees me and leaps up to greet me, just like Alice does with Jasper.

"You need a hat!" Bella declares, pulling me to her chaotic closet. "Everybody needs a hat. Hats all around!"

Bella pulls a floppy black beanie over my hair and throws a trucker hat with the Colorado flag on it to Jasper.

"Why?" Jasper asks with a smirk as he kicks off his boots in the doorway.

"Because we're packing," Bella says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I pull her into a side hug as I laugh, because she is really just too cute.

"Yeah… I still don't get the hats," Jasper insists, putting the hat carefully on his head.

"Huh. Yeah. They don't really make sense," Bella says, furrowing her brow in concentration. "Alice, why are we wearing hats?"

"Well," Alice says, looking far more sure of herself than Bella. "We started packing, but it was boring and sad so we decided we needed to have celebratory drinks and costumes to make us happier. So we tried to dress up like maids, but that is kinda a failure. We thought the hats would make up for our lack of awesome in the outfit department. And now it's a hat party. So wear your damn hats!"

Jasper and I laugh some more at their drunkenness before we all settle down in a circle on the floor. It's decided that Jasper and I need to catch up, and a drinking game develops that is cleverly named "drink." Basically, Jasper and I have to take a shot whenever Alice and Bella demand we drink. It's ridiculous, and far too quickly, we put a significant dent in Bella's handle of whiskey and polish of several bottles of champagne.

"Favorite memory of freshman year," Alice says, getting all weepy and sad at the prospect of moving out.

"Our Thursday night dance party workouts," Bella says, grinning and crawling across our circle on the floor to throw her arms around my sister.

"Aw… sweetie!" Alice responds with a very girly squeak. They start talking girl way to fast, and I share an eye roll with Jasper.

"Okay, okay," Jasper says, pulling Alice back into his side. "Enough with the girly crap. We are supposed to be celebrating, not slobbering all over each other."

"DRINK!" Alice and Bella say in unison, laughing hysterically as Jasper and I groan. This is the most unfair game in the history of games.

There is a loud knock on the door, and the four of us freeze.

"God, we better not get busted on our last night in the dorms. Here, Bella, get in the closet, and take all this booze with you," Alice whispers, shifting into army commander mode.

"Why do I have to get in the closet?" Bella demands from her position in the closet, her arms laden with various bottles.

"Because you're obviously the drunkest," Alice says, before closing the doors, silently demanding that Jazz and I be quiet, and walking to the door. I'm going to suggest that Jazz remove the pink boa, but I decide not to mention anything because he looks too funny.

We all hold our breath as Alice opens the door, but instead of the polite greeting to an RA, Alice lets out a high-pitched squeal. That is happening a lot tonight. Alice reappears, dragging Ben and Angela behind her. Greetings are made, and I let Bella out of the closet.

"We brought provisions," says Angela as she sits between Bella and Ben. She sets a tray of colorful cupcakes in the center of the circle, and we all greedily snatch them up.

"And lubrications," says Ben, placing a bottle of tequila next to the cupcakes.

"You need hats!" says Bella, giving Angela a fedora and Ben a floppy cowboy hat.

"Why didn't I get the cowboy hat?" whines Jasper.

"Too predictable," Alice dismisses, cuddling into his side. "Everyone has to say their favorite memory."

"Honey," Jasper replies, nuzzling into Alice's neck and only making me slightly nauseous. "Every moment with you is my favorite memory."

"DRINK!" says Bella. "That shit was corny."

"What's yours, Edward?" my twin asks as I take my shot. I really think the game should be over now that Jazz and I are sufficiently hammered, but the lady folk do not agree.

"Oh you know," I say, smiling lazily at the beautiful girl beside me. "Hanging out in the library." I waggle my eyebrows so she knows just what I am talking about. Bella giggles and blushes, hiding her face in my chest as our friends look on in amusement.

"That's up there for me too," Bella whispers, her lips tickling my earlobe.

"You guys are weird," says Ben with a smirk. "Oh, what about Edward getting his face bashed in. Twice!"

"That's one of your best memories?" I ask as I laugh.

"Yeah, because it was you. Of all people to get in a fight."

The rest of the group murmurs their agreement, but Bella shakes her head violently.

"That is totally not funny, you cocksuckers," she says, looking upset. "Edward getting hurt is not funny."

"Aw… you guys are so cute," says Alice, clasping her hands together and getting all swoony.

I grin, and Bella blushes.

"She doesn't want you to get hurt," Angela says, joining in Alice's girly moment.

"She likes me," I say with a shrug, wishing it were truer. I know Bella enjoys spending time with me and considers me to be one of her best friends, but I still want something more. Realistically, though, I don't have a lot of hope of that actually happening.

Bella laughs and punches me in the shoulder. I laugh and rest my head against her neck.

"Yeah, what's the deal?" asks Jasper, reclining back on his elbows. "Have you two fucked yet or what?"

Now I'm blushing, and Bella grins, shaking her head.

"You're an idiot, Jasper Whitlock. Mind your own fucking business," she replies good-naturedly.

"I'm just sayin'. The sexual tension drippin' off the pair of y'all is exhausting to the rest of us," he slurs.

"Getting kicked out off your room every ten seconds so you two can bone is exhausting," counters Bella, causing me to groan. "You two fuck like fucking bunnies."

"Bella. Please. My sister…" I plead with Bella to stop as I pinch my eyes shut and try to imagine anything else.

"Aw… Bella," Alice says, tears filling her eyes. "Never again will I kick you out of our room! Because we won't be roommates anymore."

They hug again as Alice cries and Bella talks in that high frequency that makes my inner ears tickle.

"Who's going to tuck me in when I accidentally pass out in the closet?" Bella asks.

"Who's going to remind me to eat while I'm working on my art?" Alice asks.

"Who's going to stay up till two in the morning talking about everything and nothing with me?" Bella asks.

"Who's going to dress up in ridiculous outfits and dance around to pop music instead of going to the gym with me on Thursday nights?" Alice asks.

"Alice. We'll still do our Thursday night dance workouts. Huzzah to the run and punch! DRINK!" Bella yells. At least this time Jazz and I aren't forced to drink alone, and everyone joins in.

"What did we just drink to?" asks Angela, looking confused.

"The run punch. It is an excellent dance move created by Bella. Burns a lot of calories, I think. We need a demonstration! Up, up, up, Bella," Alice answers.

Alice turns the music up, switching it to Britney Spears latest musical gem. Alice and Bella run around us in time to the beat, punching forward as they do so and giggling like lunatics. In a matter of moments, the rest of us get bored with the watching and we all rise to join them. The run punch is quickly abandoned, and everyone couples off, dancing together.

Somehow, Bella becomes pressed up against me, gyrating her hips with the music. I close my eyes, reveling in the sensations as Bella lights my skin ablaze. My hands travel down her sides, coming to rest at her hips as hers come around my neck to grab the hair at the back of my head.

"Fuck," she murmurs. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, Edward Cullen?"

"Yeah," I reply. "If it's anything at all like what you do to me."

She continues to grind into me as my hands slip under the fabric of her tank top at her lower back. My fingers trace those fuck-all sexy dimples right above her ass, and my pants become uncomfortably tight.

I open my eyes to look at her, only to notice that we are alone with Alice and Jasper who are practically having sex up against the wall in front of us. Shuddering at the sight, I pull Bella out of the room, flicking Jasper in the ear on our way.

Motherfucker doesn't even notice.

The moment we are in the hall, I push Bella up against a wall more violently than I would have under sober circumstances and hold her there with my hips.

"Bella," I groan into her neck. "I really want to kiss you."

"Then stop talkin' bout it and start doin' it," she replies, her arms wrapping around my rib cage.

Without further ado, I plunge my tongue into her warm mouth. I groan, both relieved that after all these months I am finally kissing Bella and frustrated that my cock isn't already buried inside of her. Despite my brief and awkward sexual encounter with Tanya, I am, for all intents and purposes, a virgin. Though I fear I will be a complete disappointment to the much more experienced Bella, I am too wound up to dwell on anything but the feel of her.

I grind myself into her somewhat shamelessly. In the back of mind, I realize that we are in a public hallway and it is pretty early in the evening, being as we started drinking at seven. But as my hand reaches up to squeeze her tit, I really don't even care who sees. Gasping, she throws her head back against the wall and rubs herself on my thigh. I can feel her heat even through all the layers of clothes separating us.

I'm on the verge of embarrassing myself and really need to get her behind closed doors.

"Come on," I say, pushing off the wall but keeping her close to my body. We stumble in the general direction of my dorm room. As we step through the always-crowded common room, I force myself to stop pawing at her chest, but I keep an arm firmly around her shoulders. One of her hands rests on my hip and the other on my stomach. She hums with pleasure as we walk through the common room and straight into Kate, of all people.

"Hi," I say, giving her an odd, arching wave.

"Edward," she says, nodding her head at me. "Bella. What are you two up two tonight?"

I giggle somewhat terrifyingly, and Bella blushes.

"Something is most certainly up," Bella whispers in my ear. Or she tries to whisper. I am pretty positive everyone within a five-foot radius hears her clearly. My laughter stops at her words as I look down at her with lust.

"Just celebrating… uh… something…" I mutter to Kate without taking my eyes off Bella. She is biting her lip, her cheeks are flushed, and there is longing in her big, brown eyes.

Bella pokes me in the ribs, signaling it is time to leave. "Goodbye, all!" I say loudly, waving to the people in the commons who I can't really see. Alcohol is messing with my vision. "Congrats! Finals are over!"

"Huzzah to summer!" Bella adds before we make it to the boys side to the thunderous applause of our peers. I practically sprint to my room, dragging Bella along with me.

The moment the door shuts behind me, I pull Bella close and kiss her again, tongues probing and teeth nipping. We topple over together, landing on my narrow bed in a tangle of limbs.

In a blur of activity that seems to happen too fast and too slow at the same time, Bella has us both stripped down to our underwear. It's a little disappointing, as I want to peel those fishnets off her legs and savor every moment I have with her, but she is mostly naked so I can hardly complain.

"Edward, you… ah…. You know this is just sex… ah…. right?" she says as she pants underneath me, and I kiss her neck while I fumble with the clasp of her bra.

"Yeah… yeah… sure… whatever," I huff out, conscious that I don't like what is coming out of her mouth but beyond caring at that point.

"I mean… SHIT!" I discard the bra and latch on to her pert, pink nipple. She arches her back and moans as I distract her momentarily from whatever she is trying to tell me. "If you're not still my friend after this, I'll fucking kick your ass," she hisses as I continue my hand and tongue movements on her chest.

"Fair enough," I mumble against her skin, still having an extremely difficult time focusing on her words.

I would have been content to just kiss her and fumble around her body indefinitely, but Bella has other plans. She pushes my boxers off with her feet and gets her hands around me. I almost lose it, right there.

All of a sudden, I'm panicking. My already erratic breathing becomes even more labored. I'm convinced that I'm going to be a complete disappointment to Bella. I have no idea what I am doing. She isn't going to enjoy it at all.

"Hey," she says quietly as her hands cradle my jaw. "Stay with me, Edward."

"I am… I just… I don't," I stutter through uneven breaths.

"Shush…" she says, looking at me right in the eye and soothingly stroking my face. "I want you, Edward. Do you want me, too?"

I nod, my eyes never leaving hers.

"Good," she says. "Panties now, Edward."

I do as she says, pulling her panties down her legs. I'm glad it's dark and I can't see much, because it's already very hard work not to blow my load on the spot. The sight of Bella completely naked beneath me is surely more than I could handle.

Supporting my weight on my elbows resting on either side of Bella's head, I struggle to calm down. But then her hands are wrapped around my cock, and she rubs me against her wet entrance. All reasonable thought vanishes from my brain as I finally give in to the all consuming urge thrust into her.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

So divine.

Bella's breath hitches, and I have to pause for a moment as I fight for control. But then she grabs my hips and rolls her pelvis, demanding that I move.

So I do.

I pump in and out of her somewhat erratically, fisting the sheets beneath me. Bella is moaning, and I take it as a good sign, but try to hold off as long as possible.

"Oh… Edward!" she cries out.

The sound of my name coming out of her pretty little mouth quickly drives me over the edge, and I come violently with a strangled gasp. I collapse on top of her, and she holds me as my whole body shudders.

"I'm sorry," I pant out into her neck when I regain functionality in my voice box.

"What for?" she asks, her voice low and raspy.

"You didn't… I couldn't…" I'm awkwardly babbling, but I can't bring myself to say that I failed to make her feel good.

"That's okay," she assures me, seeming to understand just what I'm trying to articulate despite the incomprehensible sounds coming out of my mouth. "It was your first time. I wasn't expecting you to last long."

"But it wasn't my first time… not really," I pout. I really want to make Bella feel good.

"What?" Bella demands, sitting up and forcing me to once again support my weight on my hands. The shift also brings our bodies closer together, and I try to look at her face, but her naked chest is distracting. "You fucked Kate?"

"What? No. I accidentallyhad sex with Tanya once but I was really drunk, and I don't really remember much," I admit, blushing. This is really not what I want to be talking about in that moment.

"Oh," Bella says in a small voice. "I wanted to be your first."

I have no idea what to make of that statement.

"Why? Maybe if I had a little more experience I could have fucking made you come," I growl, letting my frustration in my lack of sexual prowess color my tone.

I'm not sure who is more surprised by my words.

"Uhhh…" Bella groans out, wiggling her hips beneath me. "Fuck… Edward, say it again."

"Say what?" I ask, confused.

"Fuck," she moans.

"Fuck?"

"Fuck! It makes me so fucking hot when you talk like that," she pants, causing my dick to stir.

"Fuck," I continue cautiously, lowering my lips to tickle the shell of Bella's ear. "Shit. Motherfucker, cocksucker."

I can't tell if she is laughing or moaning, but I continue on, despite how uncomfortable I am.

"I love your… cunt," I whisper, the alcohol lingering in my system making me bold. "It feels so good wrapped around my dick. I've dreamed about it since I first met you. And that day in the library… fuck… your hot mouth on my dick was the most divine thing I ever felt until I got inside you… Bella, your pussy is heaven. I want to feel you come on my cock so bad."

I feel ridiculous with my attempt at dirty talk, but Bella sure seems to be enjoying it. She is moaning and writhing around.

"Holy fuck… Bella… are you?" Though it is dark, and I can't tell for sure, I'm pretty certain Bella is touching herself. Oh. God.

"Uh huh," she breathes out.

The confirmation goes straight to my cock, and just like that, I'm ready for round two.

"Bella? I would really like the opportunity to make you feel how you make me feel," I blather, annoyed that I can't find the right words to tell her I want to make love to her again.

She shocks the shit out of me, rolling me over, straddling my waist, and grinding down on to me in less than a second. Buried inside her in this very new position, I see stars.

"Okay, Edward," she says as she starts to move over me. "We're going to practice…ah… keep this up all damn night until you get it just right."

It doesn't take long for me to accomplish my mission. Several times, in fact.

In the morning I'm not surprised to wake alone. Horribly disappointed, but not surprised.

I don't let myself dwell on what it all meant. Nothing will change between Bella and I. Instead I focus on how completely relaxed my body feels. Rubbing my hands over my eyes, I sit up in bed, faintly aware of my nudity.

"'Bout time. I've been bored as shit and your coffee's gettin' cold."

Bella scares the hell out of me, and I almost tumble out of bed in my surprise. She is still in my room, dressed in my t-shirt and a pair of little red panties and sitting in a chair by my window, holding my copy of Catcher in the Rye in one hand a paper cup of coffee in the other. The sunlight streaming in through the window brings out all the red in her hair. She looks so perfect I have to fight the urge to rush over to her and kiss her. I don't think she would like that at all.

"Hi," I croak out, feeling awkward and not wanting to get out of bed naked.

"Don't you get all awkward on me, ginger," she snaps, her eyes narrowing at me. "You promised you would still be my friend. Don't think I don't remember. I wasn't that drunk."

I smile at Bella because her babbling is indicative of her nerves. Plus, she brings me coffee. I slip out of bed, clutching the sheet around my waist before padding over to Bella. Smirking up at me, she hands me my coffee as she takes a sip of her own cup. I lean against the windowsill and try to think of something to say.

"It's just coffee," she mumbles into her drink, looking out the window.

"Thank you," I reply.

"And last night was just sex."

I nod, having nothing to say that hadn't already been said.

"Really, really good just sex." Bella blushes and looks down at her lap, embarrassed at her words.

"Best I've ever had," I reply, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"It sure as fuck better be." Bella smiles momentarily but then goes back to staring blankly out the window. I have no idea what she is thinking, but I hope she doesn't regret anything. Tugging insistently on her hand, I haul her up and then sit in the chair before pulling her back into my lap.

"Edward…" she says, wary.

"Just shut up," I say, pushing her head to my shoulder and kissing her temple.

"Bagels are in that bag," Bella murmurs, finally relaxing against me. "I got you an onion one with sun-dried tomato cream cheese."

It's probably not a good sign that my pathetic heart soars. But it does. Bella bought me breakfast. It's sweet.

We eat in silence, just being. When our food is devoured, we continue to just sit. I run my hands over Bella thighs, dropping random kisses on her head. She snuggles into my neck and traces patterns on my stomach. It's both soothing and arousing, but eventually the sun rises even higher in the sky and Hallett Hall wakes up.

There is so much to do today. We have to pack up our lives. Bella hasn't even really started, and although I'm mostly done, it's going to take several trips to get everything to Emmett's where our stuff will stay in his basement till we move into the house on Goss in August. And Alice has a lot of stuff.

Sighing heavily, Bella rises from my lap.

"I've gotta go," she says, frowning slightly. "Packing to do."

"Yeah… me too," I reply, securing the sheet around my waist and moving closer to her. "Goodbye… for the summer… I guess."

"Wow. Yeah. You're leaving today," she murmurs.

"Yup." We stand there for two minutes, shuffling our feet awkwardly, neither of us knowing what to say. I huff in frustration. I was freaking inside her mere hours ago. This shouldn't be so strained.

Screw it.

Abruptly, I pull her to me and kiss her hard as I push my hands into her hair. Her lips part immediately, and she just tastes so good, I want to kiss her forever. But before things get carried away, I pull back. Bella looks at me with stunned eyes and still parted lips.

"Goodbye, Bella," I say, getting very emotional as I realize that I won't be seeing her until August. "I'll miss you."

"Yeah, yeah," she says, reaching for the door. "Don't get all mushy on me. Keep in touch!"

* * *

**Well, that was that. What will happen next, I wonder. Any guesses? Let me know!**


	12. One Weird Summer

**Hello All!**

**So this chapter is short and totally lacks any Edward. I know. Sad. But because he really wants to tell his side, chapter 13 should be up tomorrow. And who knows. A massive amount of reviews might inspire me to make time to get it up tonight. Wow, that was shameless. **

**Anyway. I don't own. Enjoy! **

* * *

December 22, 2010

BPOV

Before I have a chance to talk to him after our early morning sex fight, Edward goes back to Denver after our early morning sex fight with promises to return the next day for Alice's annual Christmas party, I know he probably feels even more miserable than me. It doesn't seem possible.

There are no words that will make either of us feel better. My actions speak for themselves, and nothing I can say will make them go away. I have no excuse for my behavior.

Yet even in his anger, Edward is still Edward, and he leaves me the keys to his Volvo to use while he is away. In case I need a car.

It's a million little gestures like this that make me care about him so much. That make me… love him.

My mind still stutters over the words. There is no way I will ever be able to fucking say them out loud while things are so rocky between us. I don't think I could get the demon words out loud when I'm by myself, let alone to him. They will surely be the death of me.

Anyway, he took the bus to Denver this morning and is planning on driving my truck back, assuming we get no more snow.

I feel almost as lost and destitute as I did after Charlie died; the only difference is now I know leaving is not a solution. I'm a fucking zombie. Even Billy notices.

I'm sitting in a spinning chair, absently twirling myself around in a circle as I watch Billy work away at his desk. But I'm lost in my own goddamn head. I don't really see anything.

"I've always liked Edward," Billy says without looking up from his computer. I'm waiting in his office for Jake, who is working in the garage. We're supposed to be getting lunch, so I sit with Billy while his son finishes with whatever car he is fixing.

Only the mention of Edward's name is enough to snap me out of my daze, apparently.

"Me too," I reply, continuing to spin in slow circles by pushing off the floor with my toes. "I really fucked up with him. I hurt him so much."

"He hurt you too. He isn't totally innocent. No one ever is."

"I'm scared, Billy," I murmur, changing the subject because I don't really know what to make of that statement. "What the hell am I going to do without him?"

I knew it wouldn't be easy, getting Edward back. But I certainly didn't think it would be this hard. I'm not planning on giving up anytime soon, but I'm terrified that someday I'll have to.

"Nothing good ever came easy," he replies simply, as if I'm not on the brink of having a breakdown. "You gotta work for the stuff worth having."

"I know he's worth having. I'm trying so hard to believe that I'm worth having, too."

"You are, Bells," Billy says, rolling towards me in his wheelchair with a smile. He leans over and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, and it feels like I have a dad again. "Edward knows that better than anyone. He'll come around. That boy has always loved you."

"You think he still does?" I ask, feeling small and young.

Billy chuckles as he makes his way back to his desk. "How could he not?"

I smile for the first time since Edward went back to Denver. Jacob enters the room.

"You ready?" he asks, looking remarkably clean as he grabs his jacket. I nod, following my best friend out the office door.

"Hey, Billy," I ask, popping my head back in the doorway after I depart. "You're coming to Alice's Christmas party, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it, kid," he replies. "Now get out of here. Jake only has an hour for lunch and his boss is a real bastard."

* * *

Summer 2005

Most years, I love Boulder during the summer. The mass exodus of college student riff raff in May leaves my town empty and peaceful until August. It's like a totally different place in the summer. Usually, I love the pleasant routine of working in the mornings and getting high in the afternoons, surrounded by natural beauty and quiet.

This summer, time crawls by, and I'm itchy with longing for something. If I'm being honest with myself (which I'm not) it's Edward's cock I want. If I'm being extra honest with myself (which I'm really not) it's Edward himself I crave. I miss the motherfucker, and it pisses me the fuck off.

I try not to want, just as I try not to contact him. I usually do pretty well in the mornings when I work the front desk for Billy's Auto Shop because I'm so busy. But when I get to the library on campus in the afternoon for my second job, re-shelving books, I can't resist the urge to text him or call him any longer. As geeky as it is, the library somehow became our spot, and it's impossible not to think of him here.

During the first month of summer break, I resort to old habits as a means to forget. I spend wild, coke-fueled nights with James the creepier, but they leave me feeling totally disgusted with myself and never distract me long from my discontent.

Instead, I change up my routine, spending peaceful evenings with Jake and the guys, smoking our body weight in weed. We camp in the mountains, hike the Flatirons, and swim in Boulder Creek, but I can't help but imagine how much better it would be if a certain green-eyed Adonis were with me.

At the end of July, RA training begins, and I am too busy to dwell on Edward. I move back into Hallett, into the room that used to be occupied by my very scary RA last year. Angela is RAing on the third floor, Ben is on the boys side of my floor, and Kate is on the first floor, so the training is bearable even if Kate very obviously hates me.

Some nights, after training is complete, I sneak into the boy's side and sit in Edward's old room. It's weak, and I fucking hate myself for it, but I feel closer to him and more at ease.

Fucking Edward the night before he flew back to Washington was my worst idea to date. It allowed zero time for a repeat performance, and over the summer, I've idealized our time together in my head. Though he is obviously inexperienced, his enthusiasm and determination to make me feel good is not something I've ever experienced before. Even with all his fumbling, he set me on fire, and I know with a little more practice time, we could be truly remarkable.

I shouldn't even think about fucking Edward like that again. I told him it was a one time, drunken thing and that it absolutely will not change anything. He agreed. Of course he agreed. I was about to fuck him. I could have gotten him to agree to sell his twin into slavery in that moment. I see the way he looks at me. I know how he feels, yet I couldn't seem to stop.

I am a terrible person, leading him on like this.

And I know I'll do it again, because I am fucking obsessed with his cock.

Two days before Edward is to arrive back in Boulder, my residents move in.

It's surreal to think that last year I was one of those wide-eyed freshmen. Their excitement and nerves are palatable as I check in the eighteen girls that are my responsibility. Instead of it annoying me, I find them to be oddly endearing. I'm actually enjoying my job. I didn't expect to. RAing means I have to be a grown up. Rarely will I be able to party. I can't smoke pot everyday.

It's shocking, but I don't think I'm going to mind.

Even easing the fears of many parents is okay.

The afternoon after my hall fills up, I take my residents to Farrend Field in the middle of campus for mandatory get-to-know-you activities.

The grassy field is another one of my favorite places on campus. It rests in the center of the brick residence hall and has a great view of the Flatirons. Edward and I used to stop here on our way back from the library at night and lay on our backs, looking at the stars and talking.

Fucking Edward. Fucking stupid fond memories.

"So you're like, really cool, aren't you?" A tall girl with curly, dull brown hair and pale skin approaches me as I lead the group through campus.

"What?" I ask with a laugh, thinking I misheard her. I take in her conservative khaki pants and pale blue button up. If I had to guess, I would say she is from the Mid West and majoring in something practical like accounting, but she really wants to study literature or history.

"It's just… you look so confident and you know… cool. Your clothes, your hair, your nose ring, your black nail polish. You seem sure of yourself and how you fit in here."

I look down at my jean shorts and ridiculous blue tourist tank top Edward sent me from Chicago. It has haphazard cartoony buildings across the front, flames across the back, and says "F*** YOU, MRS. O'LEARY" along the waist. I find it funny, though definitely not cool.

This girl is weird, yet strangely compelling. And she is right, she sure as fuck doesn't look like she belongs in Boulder, but I don't hold it against her.

"Well… I do fit in here. I have lived here the majority of my life," I reply, attempting diplomacy.

"So you were never a scared little freshmen?" she asks with terrified eyes.

"Naw," I say with a laugh. "But I'm weird. I knew plenty a scared little freshmen. They all figured out the swing of college life real quick, and so will you."

"I guess," she mutters.

"What's your name again?" I ask. Learning all their names is going to be tricky as shit.

"Rebecca."

"I'm going to remember that," I assure her. "And the great thing about Boulder, Becks, is that it's full of all sorts of folks."

"But even back home, everone thought I was weird." The poor girl looks like she is on the verge of tears.

"Boulder is the Mecca for weirdos!" I say because it's true. "We have weirdos out the wazzoo. All kinds, too. Artsy weirdos, nerdy weirdos. Hippie weirdos who believe in the healing power of crystals and like to pretend they're wizards. The thing they don't tell you in Podunk wherever you are from is that we are all fucking weird."

She giggles, and I'm relieved because I thought I might have gone too far with the insulting of her hometown.

"What kind of weird are you?" Rebecca asks.

"The kind that puts peanut butter on everything, even my eggs, and scribbles down thoughts on anything within reach," I reply. "What about you?"

"I don't know. I like to write stuff down too."

"Where are you from, Becks?" I ask as she flushes at the nickname. "Do you mind if I call you Becks?"

"Not at all. I've never had a nickname before. And I'm from Iowa. Waterloo. Nothing ever happens there."

Score! I am truly awesome.

"So why did you chose CU?" I ask, genuinely interested.

"My step-dad went here and loved it. He wanted me to go here, and I didn't really care where I went, as long as I got away from home."

"That makes sense." I nod as we enter the field, and I stop the group at the edge under a tree. "Well, Becks, I can guarantee that you will find people who are weird like you, who appreciate your weirdness."

She smiles at me, and it makes me happy. I feel like I did a good thing.

I sit in a circle in the grass with all eighteen of my residents. They are all staring at me, and it makes me uncomfortable.

"All right, my little weirdos," I say loudly with a wink towards Rebecca, demanding everyone's silence. "As most of you know, I'm Bella and I'll be the boss of you for the next nine months."

They look at me in horror, and I laugh.

"Jeeze, I was just fucking with you. Lighten up! College is fun, not scary." A few of them crack a smile but mostly they continue to look petrified. "Right. So, I'm Bella. I'm from Boulder. I literally grew up less than a mile from here so I know B-Town pretty damn well and don't mind imparting my knowledge on you, so if you have questions, ask. I'm a sophomore and a creative writing major, but I'm thinking about doubling in lit because I love me a good book... What else? My favorite color is green, I lived in twelve states between the ages of two and ten when I moved to Boulder. I like reggae and classical music. If I could travel anywhere it would be to Africa, and if I could meet anyone, alive or dead, it would probably be Abe Lincoln cuz I dig the beard. Any questions?"

This introduction is mandatory, and I feel odd babbling on about myself.

A blond girl in the front with a face full of perfect makeup and designer sunglasses raises her hand. I nod at her to ask away.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" she inquires as several of the girls around her snigger.

"Hell no!" I say, aghast that this girl asked that question of all things. Is that all she cares about? Pathetic.

"Why not?" she went on.

"Because I don't want one," I say, losing my patience. My mind immediately goes to Edward, and that only irritates me further.

"Oh, good. Because I live in the room right next to yours, and I need at least nine hours of sleep and those walls are thin. I'm glad you won't be keeping me up with your sex noises."

Thirty-four eyes stare at her for a moment, mine included, before a devious smile spreads on my face.

"Remind me of your name?" I ask.

"Jane," she says with a flip of her hair.

"Well, Jane. I simply said I didn't have a boyfriend. That's not a guarantee that I won't keep you up." It's an inappropriate answer, and I could get in trouble, but fuck it. She was inappropriate first.

Jane looks astonished, and I smirk.

"Any more questions?" I ask, reclining on my elbows in the soft grass. "Great! We are going to go around in a circle and get to know each other a little bit. Say your name, major, where you are from, and a couple fun facts about yourself. Oh, and also point out your roommate so we can piece together who lives where. Jane? Why don't you start?"

Just as I guessed, Jane is from Southern California and is studying business. Apparently, her daddy is good friends with Brad Pitt, and Robert Pattinson attended her eighteenth birthday party.

Jane identifies poor Becks as her roommate, and I shudder for my little weirdo.

It takes about half an hour for everyone to speak. Some girls are funny, some shy, some snobbish. Most are from Colorado, which makes me happy. By the end, I have my favorite (Becks) and my least favorite (Jane) with the rest falling somewhere in between. Ranking them, even in my head, is probably wrong but I can't help it.

"So now that we all know each other," I say, all eyes on me once again, "We need to move on to the official crap. Drinking and smoking - just don't do it in the dorms. If you're being a drunken idiot or I smell the marijuana, I won't hesitate to write you up." I feel ridiculously hypocritical saying that, but I press on.

"That being said, if you or someone you know is in trouble, their health on the line, find me. Let me help. I know what I'm doing. My door will always be open if I'm on duty, so you can just come on in. If it's closed, knock and I will help out if I'm there. Otherwise, you can talk to Ben, the blond dude who is the RA on the boys side. Angela is the head RA, and she lives on the third floor. Posted on her door is the master schedule, and it will tell you who is on duty when. You can find my class and duty schedule on my door too. On Wednesday nights, Ben and I will coordinate some sort of activity in the commons. You aren't required to come or anything, but it's a good way to get to know your neighbors and there will usually be food. Questions?"

Jane raises her French manicured little hand again, and I internally groan. "Yes, Jane?"

"Is Ben cute?" she trills as I look on in disgust. What the fuck is this girl's deal?

"You would have to ask his girlfriend, Angela," I reply, rolling my eyes. "Any real questions? No? Great. Now, everyone needs to find their roommate to fill out this housing contract. You and your roommate need to set some rules to follow to make living together easier. I'm handing out the contracts now, and it has issues to address. Fill them out and sign them when you are both satisfied. If your differences are too great, come and see me and we'll talk it out."

Everyone disperses and I walk between the groups, listening and answering the occasional question. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I beam like crazy.

_T-minus 24 hours till my plane lands in colorful Colorado. Be excited._

Hopefully he has no idea how truly excited I really am.

_Oh, you're coming back? I must have forgotten. _

His reply is immediate and has me blushing.

_You nasty little liar. I know you didn't forget just how excited I make you. You are totally blushing & biting ur lip, aren't you?_

Goddamn it. When did he get to know me so well?

_Whatever. The library is lonely without you._

I push send before I realize the implications of my text. He will think I miss him. Which I do. I just can't have him knowing that.

_How are the freshies? _

I sigh with relief at his reply. The great thing about Edward is that he seems to understand just what I need, and in that moment it's a subject change, for sure.

_Interesting. God, there is a mini Lauren in the group. She's just going to love you._

I can just imagine the giggling and awkward questions that will ensue when Jane gets a good look at my Adonis. She will probably hump him on the spot, as if I need another excuse to hate her.

_That's something to look forward to. Well, I have to go schmooze with my scary g-pa. Have a good night._

I put my phone away, wishing that our conversation could continue on infinitely, or at least until I see him again. But I have things to do. My residents are finishing up, and I am thankful when all living agreements are signed. I really didn't want to put my newly developed mediation skills to the test quite yet.

That night, I eat dinner with Angela, Ben, and Kate (unfortunately) in the dining hall. We talk about our residents and compare horror stories before declaring that Jane is obviously the worst.

"She asked if Ben was hot?" Angela asks in disbelief. "What's wrong with this girl?"

"I know, right?" I agree, stabbing a crouton with more force than necessary.

"So what did you say?" Ben asks, looking a little too pleased with himself.

"I told her she would have to ask his girlfriend," I reply, and we all laugh. Well, minus Kate. The girl seriously lacks a sense of humor.

"She must really hate you," Kate says, contributing to the conversation for the first time.

"Good," I say, narrowing my eyes at Kate. "I want her to be fucking terrified of me."

I give Kate the evil eye, and she balks, staring down into her pasta. Score one for bitchy Bella.

"You guys all dropped off your living agreements, right?" Angela asks, looking around the table. "I want to get them all filed tonight."

"Yup," I reply. "We were trained well."

"Hi," says a timid voice behind me. I turn my head to see Rebecca loitering awkwardly, clutching her tray of shit dining hall food.

"Hey, Becks!" I reply with enthusiasm. Something about this poor, lost girl really calls to me. She's like me when Renee left. She is young Bella without the defense mechanisms and tough skin. "Pull up a chair, yo."

I kick out the chair across from me and next to Kate, who jumps. Pussy.

"Rebecca, this is Ben, Angela, and Kate," I say, nodding in turn to each of my fellow RAs. "Guys, this is Rebecca. She lives next to me."

Everyone murmurs their greetings.

"Is this okay?" Rebecca asks nervously. "Am I allowed to sit with you?"

"We're just RAs," Angela says with a laugh. "We won't bite. Well, Bella might."

I roll my eyes and smile. "Up yours, four-eyes, I'm perfectly harmless."

"Wait, do you live in 233?" Ben asks.

"Yes," Rebecca says, looking down.

"That's Bella's old room. How weird is that?" Ben continues.

"It is?" Rebecca asks me with interest.

"Yup," I say. "Good times in that room. It's very odd, seeing it full of someone else's stuff."

I think about all the nights Edward slept in his sister's bed across from me and smile.

"Shit. Bella, you're smiling," Angela says.

"Yes. And?" I snap, immediately rearranging my face into a more typical scowl.

"That's weird," Ben replies, shrugging. "We haven't seen you this happy since that last night in the dorms."

He waggles his eyebrows at me, while Angela laughs, Kate scowls, and I blush.

God, that night. Naked Edward. Yum.

"You know why she's so happy, don't you?" Angela says, even though I glare at her intensely. I know exactly where she is going with this, and I don't like it one bit.

"No, Ange," Ben says, playing along even though he knows just what she is talking about. "Why is Bella so happy?"

"Because, the Cullen twins fly in tomorrow," replies Angela proudly. "And to be more specific, Edward comes back tomorrow."

I have the urge to stab Angela in the hand with my fork, but I'm pretty sure that RAs don't do that.

"Shut it, Weber," I reply through clenched teeth.

"Who's Edward?" Rebecca asks innocently. "I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend."

"I don't, and he isn't," I reply. "So Becks, what classes are you taking?"

"Wait. But do you want him to be?" Rebecca asks as Ben and Angela laugh.

"It's quite the opposite, actually," puts in Kate, helpful as usual. I try to have a little pity for the girl. Edward doesn't want her, and that probably sucks. But I can't manage anything but distaste for Edward's former fling. I don't look too deeply into the why, though.

"Bella Swan doesn't do boyfriends," Angela says in a voice that is supposed to be me. "Even boyfriends as gorgeous as Edward Cullen."

"Gorgeous?" Ben huffs. "Gorgeous? You think he's gorgeous? Shit, Angela. Now I'm gonna have to beat him up."

"Can we talk about something else please?" I ask, sounding only slightly desperate.

"Oh, that's right," Ben says, apparently not ready to stop teasing me. "Bella doesn't like it when Edward gets beat up."

I think back to that horrible night with James, and the bruise that lingered for weeks on poor Edward's perfect face.

"Of course I don't like it when he gets beat up. He's my friend. And he's your friend, too, so you shouldn't like it either. What is wrong with you? Next subject please," I demand, annoyed with pretty much everyone.

"I have a date," Kate offers, thoroughly shocking the pants off me.

"Good for you, vanilla," I say, genuinely pleased. "Anyone we know?"

"Maybe. It's Emmett's roommate. Garrett?"

"Well done," Angela says, giving Kate a side hug. "He's banging."

Ben groans loudly and whacks his forehead against the tabletop. "What's going on with you tonight, Weber? You're going to kill me."

"Cheer up, baby," Angela replies, patting his hand in consolation. "You know you're my man. I couldn't say this shit in front of you if I wasn't so secure in our relationship."

Ben grins up from the table at her, and my heart does something funny. They really are very cute. And usually I hate the happy couples.

"You cocksuckers are making me want to vom," I say with a glare. "We're supposed to be role models for Becks here, and you're making everyone nauseous."

"There's the cranky Bella we know and love!" says Ben, ruffling my hair. "We knew that happy crap wouldn't last long."

"You guys are buttholes," I say petulantly.

"Wow. What a bunch of weirdos," murmurs Becks, causing me to laugh until I can't breathe.

This RA thing isn't going to be half bad after all.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**


	13. Because We Can

**Long time no see! Ha.**

**Anyway here a couple FYI's regarding this there fic.**

** 1. Everyone is just DYING to know who the allusive _him _****is but alas, you won't know for sure for awhile. I can't give away all my secrets. In the mean time, I would love to hear your guesses!**

** 2. A lot of you have been requesting more present story, but I must warn you, the next couple chapters are pretty past heavy. Its just the way it turned out, but just stick with me. All will be revealed in due time.**

** 3. Do not worry, I am a firm believer in HEA. I'm pretty positive you'll like the ending, even if there is a whole lot of drama between here and the finish line.**

**Wow, that was the longest authors note of my life.**

**Also, I snuck away from the house party my roommates are throwing this happy friday to bring you this chapter. Does my dedication warrant a review?**

**Here's Edward, as promised.**

* * *

December 23, 2010

EPOV

"Edward," Alice says the moment I answer my phone. She sounds pissed, and I'm not surprised with her anger. My big twin does not like my handling of what she calls "the Bella situation," and she's taken to cornering me to voice her opinion repetitively. Now, she's doing it via phone. "This whole sleeping-with-Bella-then-running-off-in-the-morning thing really has to end."

"We didn't sleep together," I reply, offended. "Well, we did in the literal sense, but we didn't do anything." Except make out a bit and grope each other, but my sister does not need to know that.

"It doesn't matter!" she snaps. "You're acting like a big fat coward. You need to deal with this. Talk to her."

I sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose. There is not enough room in my brain to deal with Alice's meddling. "Please, just stop. I know what I'm doing with Bella."

"No, you don't. Do you promise to at least come to my party tonight?" she asks, getting right to the point.

"Yes. Tia is cooking me dinner, and then we'll drive up," I assure, glancing at my watch and trying to determine if I have enough time to go for a run before I head over to my friend's.

"You're still bringing Tia?" Alice asks, apparently surprised.

"Of course," I reply, going to my closet and laying out my outfit for the evening to be pressed and ironed after I shower. "I always bring Tia to everything."

"Yes, I know. But with Bella here… do you really want to risk the drama?"

What drama? What the heck is Alice talking about?

"What do you mean?"

"Bella has always been one jealous bitch," Alice replies sagely.

"Don't call her a bitch!" The words are out of my mouth before I really think about it, and I curse myself for still feeling all protective of a woman who chose to run away with the worst, most vile, sub-human individual I have ever had the displeasure of spending any time with.

"And Tia is just my friend," I backpedal.

"So you say," Alice says with a sigh.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"Really, Edward? Do you really have no idea what I'm talking about? There is no way you are really that socially inept."

"I guess I am, because I have no idea what you're talking about," I say.

"Fine. Whatever. Just be there tonight," she says before abruptly hanging up on me.

I change into some workout clothes. When I run, I don't think about anything. Not the loneliness of the last two years. Not Bella's tantalizing claims to want a future with me. Not him. Just the thud of my feet on pavement. I have my distractions, and they are a whole lot healthier than Bella's.

"Wow," Tia says, holding a glass of wine in one hand as she stands at the stove, preparing dinner. "The semester's over. Why are you so tired? That's like the fourth time you've yawned, and you've only been here for fifteen minutes."

I just nod absently and pull apart a piece of French bread on the small plate in front of me. The reason I'm so tired is because Bella was in Boulder last night, and I was here in my lonely Denver apartment, and I couldn't sleep without her.

Already she has re-ruined me. She's all I can think about. And for a few months there, I was doing so well at the getting-over-her thing.

Sorta.

"You're really quiet today…" Tia ventures, trying once again to drag me out of my head. She is a very good friend, my very best at grad school.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. I'm afraid I'm not very good company at the moment." I sigh heavily and run my hands through my hair. Tia looks at me with concern in her big, amber eyes and flips her dark hair over her shoulder before turning back to the stove.

"You seem more stressed than you were during finals." Her attempt at a joke falls flat, and I barely manage a smile for my friend. I take a large gulp of wine and immediately regret the action because I have to drive to Boulder and am limiting myself to one glass before we arrive at the party.

Once we get there, I thoroughly plan on consuming bottles as that's the only way I can conceive of to get through the evening with Bella in the area. Which is probably unwise, given what seems to happen when I get a little liquor in my system and she is near me. But I don't feel as though I have any other options.

"Any particular reason?" she asks, dishing out spaghetti on a plate for each of us.

"Not really. Just tired. Waldo is in Boulder, and my apartment is always so cold," I complain as she sits next to me, sliding me a plate of Italian food.

"You do it to yourself, you know." She pats my hand sympathetically. Tia rubs a thumb over my knuckles, and I clear my throat in discomfort. I pull away my hand and casually reach for my fork.

"This looks great," I say with phony enthusiasm. It works because Tia beams as I dig in.

Once upon a time, Tia wanted me. She still might, for all I know but I've done my best over the last couple of years to make it clear that I only see her as a friend.

We kissed only once on a drunken night at the beginning of grad school a year and a half ago. I regretted it immediately, telling her that I just got out of a messy relationship, and I wasn't looking to date. I think she would have slept with me anyway, but she was my first friend at grad school, and I didn't want to ruin our relationship.

Since then, we've become close. She's never seen me date, so she might continue to hope. Either that, or she thinks I'm gay.

I usually take Tia to parties. I hate going alone because my social awkwardness has not abated with age. Tia is a good friend. She is undeniably beautiful, with her appealing curves and caramel skin. But she has no idea, and is very shy and awkward. We have a lot in common.

Tia has no idea Bella even exists.

We chat throughout dinner, and I do a good job pretending that everything is okay. Tia doesn't seem to notice that my whole world has changed since the last time I saw her at the end of the semester.

She seems happy, excited for the evening, and oddly nervous as we walk down the stairs after dinner and towards the parking lot outside her apartment complex.

I lead her to Bella's truck and open the door of the Chevy as Tia looks on with distaste.

"Where's your Volvo?" she asks as I slide into the driver's seat, turn the key in the ignition, causing the vehicle to roar to life.

"In Boulder," I reply, navigating towards the highway. Tia doesn't have a car, so she plans on crashing on our couch after the party and taking the bus back to Denver in the morning.

"Why?" she asks, still mystified. Like me, she is probably praying that we make it to Boulder.

"It's a long story," I reply.

"Good thing we have half an hour before we get to your sister's house." Tia had never known me when I lived on Goss. Tia never knew me with Bella.

"A friend came to visit me from Boulder the other night," I explain in a rush, hoping Tia won't have further questions. "By the time she was ready to go back home, it had snowed too much, so she ended up staying the night. I drove us both to Boulder the next morning in the Volvo. This beast is terrible in the snow."

"She, huh?" Tia asks, elbowing me playfully. "Anyone I know?"

I shake my head. "No, just an old friend. She recently moved back to Boulder."

Even I am unconvinced with my explanation, but Tia simply raises a dark eyebrow before turning back to the window. This is my favorite thing about her - she never pushes.

"I love Alice's Christmas parties," Tia says, linking her arm with mine to avoid falling on the icy walk in her heels when we arrive at the Goss house. "The house is so festive and it really feels like the holidays."

"Me too," I reply, only half-listening because I know that, in a moment, I'll see Bella.

We enter the house, which is already filling up with people. I don't see anyone from the old college days in the front room, and I don't look beyond that, because I'm not ready to see Bella yet. I really do feel badly for sharing a bed with her and then freaking out on her. Again. But my emotions regarding her are volatile. I don't know what I'm doing, and that is very rare for me.

"Alice has made this house dangerous," Tia whispers in my ear as I add our coats to the already large pile on the living room sofa. "Look at all the mistletoe!"

I snicker. Of course my interfering little twin would try to play matchmaker from afar. The smile falls off my face the moment I see a beautiful brunette in midnight blue. She is staring right at me, and our eyes lock. Bella has me in some sort of freaky trance, and the rest of the world is blurry.

Collin, Emmett's co-worker, steals her attention, however, and the spell is broken as she turns away. I want to murder the bastard as his hands ghost over the sexy dimples at the small of her back. Just yesterday, I was tracing them with my thumbs.

"Whoa," says Tia as Bella and Collin disappear into the kitchen. "Who is that? She's gorgeous."

"Isabella Marie Swan," I mutter, running my hands through my hair compulsively.

"I take it you know her?" Tia asks with a frown.

"Yeah," I say, shaking my head in a futile attempt to clear it. I stare at the space formerly occupied by Isabella before abruptly grabbing Tia's hand and dragging her through the throngs of people to the kitchen. I'm in desperate need of a drink.

* * *

August 19, 2005

"Edward!" my sister squeaks, tugging on my shirtsleeve with her forehead firmly pressed against the tiny airplane window. "Mountains! I see mountains!"

"Alice," I reply with a laugh, wincing as her nails dig into my arm. "I can't see anything with you blocking the window."

The twin and I have spent the last two weeks of our summer vacation in Chicago with our parents, visiting grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. Emmett even joined us for the first week of the huge family reunion. It was good to be back in the city, but Alice and I are both antsy to get back to Boulder.

I long for craggy mountains and mahogany hair.

"They are too far away," I say with a frown when Alice sits back in her seat, giving me a view of the Front Range.

"Edward," Alice says with a big sigh. "We're going to be back in like less than an hour. Be happy!"

I close my eyes as we make our descent.

The moment we pull up to the gate and the captain turns off the fasten seat belt sign, Alice has her phone out and is speed dialing her boyfriend. Jasper came to visit in June for a week around our twentieth birthday. Esme loves him, but he had a hard time bonding with papa Carlisle, a fact that makes me oddly happy considering the rough start to our friendship. That had been over two months ago, and Alice is tweaking out.

"Jazz!" she shouts, smiling widely. It makes me happy that she is so happy. "Yes… We just landed… Yeah, the people in front of us are starting to move… Okay, so we will meet you at the baggage claim… SEE YOU IN LIKE FIVE MINUTES, YOU SEXY TEXAN!"

Several heads turn to stare after Alice's little outburst, but her joy is contagious and she has passengers smiling with her.

As we exit the plane, I'm surprised to hear my own phone ring in my pocket. I grin when I see the name illuminating the screen.

"Isabella."

"Edward Cullen. As I live and breathe," she says into the phone in what I recognize to be her southern belle accent. God, how I've missed her.

"How did you do that?" I ask as Alice eyes me with suspicion.

"Do what?"

"Know like the exact moment to call. I just got off the plane."

"I'm magic, Cullen. Didn't you know?"

"Yeah, I had some inkling." I think back to my last night in Boulder, and I feel a stirring down in my belly. Best fucking night of my life. Literally. Though I drunkenly insisted to Bella that the sex wouldn't change anything, our night together only served to further wrap me up in her. I was scared she would pull away, but she surprised me by staying in touch over the summer. We communicate almost daily, by text, email, or phone call. She still continues to assert that we are just friends, but I've missed her terribly over the summer.

"What are you doing tonight?" she asks.

"I don't know. Nothing, I guess. Sleeping on Emmett's couch before we move into the new house," I reply.

"No. That's fucking lame. Come over. You need to see my new room." I beam at her enthusiasm; glad I'm not the only one desperate for our reunion.

"Okay. I'll just drop my shit off at Emmett's and come over." We are moving into the house on Goss in a few days, but until then we are bunking at my brother's.

"Not good enough. Just come straight here. I'm tired of waiting," she huffs into the phone, obviously frustrated.

"Jeeze, someone is desperate to see me," I say with a smug chuckle. It feels fucking good, Bella's desire to see me.

"Don't get cocky, Cullen. Huge ego is horribly unattractive," she replies tersely.

"Bella, come on. I think we both know that you actually find me horribly attractive."

"Shut it, asshat. In fact, don't even bother coming over. I have big plans I previously forgot about—"

"Isabella. I'm coming over. I should be there in forty-five, okay?"

"I guess."

"Bella?"

"Yes?"

"I missed you."

"Okay, Cullen. Don't get all sappy on me. I'll see you soon."

I hang up as Alice and I step onto a moving walkway. She is smirking at me, giving me the evil eye that tells me I'm about to brave an inquisition.

"So?" she asks finally, when I remain silent and ignore her.

"So what?"

"So you are going to see Bella?"

"Yup."

"What's going on with you two?"

"Nothing. We're just friends."

"Friends who have sex." I have neither confirmed nor denied Alice's suspicions about what went on the last night of last term, and it's driving the big twin crazy.

"We're really good friends." I flush slightly and smile.

"She's booty calling you already? You're feet haven't even hit Colorado soil yet. That's impressive, little twin," Alice continues, trying to bait me into answering her questions.

I have no expectations for my visit with Bella. Though of course I want to have sex with her - I live in a state of perpetually wanting sex with Bella - she made it very clear that it was a one-time thing, never to happen again. She was drunk and feeling nostalgic about the end of freshmen year. I get that. I really don't believe Bella wants sex from me. I also really have no idea what I am doing in that department.

"It's not a booty call. She just wants to show me her new room."

Alice simply sends me a withering look.

"You know what I mean. Bella made it very clear that we are just friends," I reply, frowning slightly at the thought.

"But that isn't want you want."

"No, not exactly. But I'm crazy about her, Alice. I can't just walk away form her. At the moment, I would rather take what I can get. If she is only willing to give me her friendship, then I will just have to deal with it," I explain for the zillionth time to my twin.

"You can't let her get away with that bullshit forever," Alice says.

"Can't we just be happy to be back in Colorado, Alice? Please?"

"Fine. But this conversation is not over."

We walk in silence to the baggage claim, and Alice takes off like the roadrunner when she sees the tall Texan loitering on the other side of the room. I join them at a much slower pace, choosing to ignore the make-out session taking place, focusing instead on the grinning face of my big brother.

"Dude," he says, pulling me into a headlock and making me feel like I'm about eight years old again. "I missed you, baby brother."

"Emmett!" I say, struggling to get out from under his massive arm. "I'm a grown-ass man! Let me go!" I throw my elbow into his gut.

"Hey!" he says, finally releasing me. "I could actually feel that jab. It's impressive. Have you been working out without me?"

"Forks is boring," I respond with a shrug.

The baggage claim starts, and Alice pries herself off Jasper to keep a weather eye out for our luggage. I shake Jasper's hand, trying to once again ignore the dazed expression on my roommate's face.

Gross.

As we exit the airport and walk to the car, Jazz and Alice are in their own little world, while Emmett talks my ear off about all his recent exploits. I really did miss him over the summer, and I'm glad that we will be living together from now on.

"Anyway," Emmett says as he pulls away from DIA. "Rose is making a big dinner tonight to welcome everyone back."

"Ah… well… you see… the thing is…." Rosalie is terrifying, and I don't know how to break the news that I will not be attending.

"He won't be there," Alice says, coming up for air in the back seat for a moment to make my life more difficult. "He wants you to just drop him off on campus."

"Why the fuck?" demands Emmett, glaring at me. I wish he would keep his eyes on the road when he drives this fast.

"Well, I have plans with Bella tonight," I say casually.

"Plans to do what, exactly?" he asks, that mischievous Emmett look in his eye.

"You know. Hang out, catch up," I reply. "It's not a big deal."

"She wants to show him her room!" says Alice from the backseat. I fight the urge to recline my seat and squish her.

"Ohhhh, baby," Emmett booms. "Someone's getting some action."

"It's not like that," I insist, but no one is listening.

They spent the remainder of the car ride to Boulder trying to convince me that I'm indeed on my way to have sex with Bella. I do my best to ignore them. At least they drop me off on campus, per my request.

It's a strange feeling, walking into Hallett Hall without it being my home. I feel old and just a little superior. A pair of freshmen boys exit the building just as I approach the side door, so I don't have to call Bella to let me in. I take the stairs two at a time, just as I always do, before entering the second floor commons. The room is packed with unfamiliar faces. They all turn to stare at me, and I blush under their scrutiny. Freshmen or not, I don't like the attention.

I try to pick my way to the door leading to the girl's side, but a small, pristinely dressed blonde stops me.

"Hi," she says, batting her eyelashes and flipping her hair. "I haven't seen you yet. What's your name?"

"Uh… Edward," I reply, recoiling as she lays a hand on my arm. She is just a little freshman. I should easily be able to escape, but I am as awkward in social situations as usual.

"Edward. I'm Jane," she says with a big smile. "What's your major?"

I'm reminded of this time last year. If Bella knows this girl, I'm sure she would have nailed her major, home and all that.

"I-Phy," I mumble, staring longingly at the door to Bella behind Jane. "Pre-Med."

"You want to be a doctor?" she flutters. "That's so cool."

"Right… Well, I really should be—"

"Do you live on the second floor?" she asks, interrupting my attempt at escape.

"No… uh… actually… I, uh—"

"Jane," a dark angel behind me barks. Instantly, my whole body is on alert, literally tingling with the feeling of being near Bella again. She approaches us from behind, her glare fixed on Jane. When she gets close, she slowly peels the little hand off my arm. "Stop making my guest uncomfortable."

"Your guest?" Jane says with disbelief. I don't like the way she is addressing Bella, but I keep my mouth shut.

"Yes. Now if you'll excuse us." Bella's hand latches on to mine, and she pulls me quickly across the room and down the hall to her single, grumbling derogatory things about Jane all the while. The phrase "cocksucker" is thrown around quite a bit.

Bella opens her door, pulls me inside, and immediately pushes me up against the closed door, shocking me completely with a deep kiss. At first, I'm too surprised to even respond. But I snap out of it real quick, matching her fervor as I kiss her back. Her hands latch onto my hair, and I lift her off the ground to get her closer.

Her tongue thrusts aggressively into my mouth, and I close my eyes in astonishment and pleasure. Hips bucking slightly against her as she crawls up my body, I have to remove one hand from Bella's body to steady us with the door frame. She tastes so good, and I've missed her so much, I can't help but let out a low moan as I invade her mouth. Bella whimpers in response, as I grow impossibly harder.

"God, Edward," she sighs as my lips trace the lovely column of her neck. "I thought I made it up."

"Made what up?" I ask with my mouth against her collarbone as I walk forward, blindly searching for the bed. Though this isn't what I expected, it's certainly what I hoped for.

"The intensity of the shivers," she replies with a squeak as I toss her down on her bed. I pause a moment to look down at her laid out on the blue quilt. Her hair is longer than when I left and is fanned out around her. Her chest is heaving with her labored breathing that is similar to my own, and best of all, she is gazing up at me with adoration.

She smiles at me shyly for a moment before reaching down to the hem of her black Bob Marley t-shirt, removing it, and tossing it in my face.

"Sexy," I say with a raspy voice when I ditch the shirt and take in Bella's leopard print bra.

"Now you," she demands. It takes me about two seconds to dispose of my own shirt. "Sexy," she says with a smirk. Using her feet, she pulls me down on top of her. I support my weight on my hands on either side of her head, not wanting to crush her.

I bend my head to kiss her fiercely. It's been a long summer.

With one hand, I grasp her neck and stroke my thumb over her cheek. The other traces up her seemingly endless legs, pausing a moment to absorb her heat through her red shorts before continuing my journey up her flat stomach to palm and squeeze her breast. Kissing my way down her throat, I push the fabric of her bra aside and sweep my tongue over her rosy little nipple

She moans at the sensation, and I answer her with a similar sound as I feel her nipple pebble in my mouth. One of her hands fists in my hair, while she palms my crotch with the other.

"Edward," she hisses when I finally manage to get her out of her bra. "Did you… ahhhh… shit. Did you come here thinking this would happen?"

"Fuck, no," I growl out as she wraps both thighs around my hips, bringing my dick closer to her body. I grind into her instinctually and grin when she lets out a helpless mewl. "I believed you when you said one-time thing."

"You're not my boyfriend," she pants, clutching my face between her hands to stop me from dipping my head to her chest again. She forces me to look her in the eye, and I see how serious she is. Damn it. "But I'm tired of staying away from you."

"Then don't," I say with conviction before plunging my tongue back into her mouth. I love kissing Bella and would be perfectly happy if this was my sole, daily activity. She answers with enthusiasm, working the buckle of my belt as her lips move against mine.

My newfound sexual confidence must come from the orgasms I gave Bella at the beginning of summer. With her again, I'm both comfortable and nervous at the same time. I believe I know how to make her feel good and am turned on by this thought as well as every little move Bella makes.

Tracing my hands down the creamy flesh of her naked rib cage, I kiss her as I make my way to the button clasp of her shorts. With minimal fumbling, I relieve her of the garment and slip a finger inside of her as my thumb circles her clit.

"Oh, fuck!" she exclaims, arching of the bed to get closer. Her spine curves in a graceful serpentine shape as she searches for more. "Just….just like that, baby. Plea…please don't stop."

It's a little mind-boggling that Bella seems to want me as desperately as I want her, but I don't question it. I'm done questioning the inexplicable draw I feel towards this dark angel.

Losing patience with my steady ministrations, she aggressively yanks my shorts and boxers down my thighs. I remove my mouth from the smooth skin at the base of her neck only long enough to send the rest of our clothes to the floor.

She trails a small hand down my abdomen, causing my muscles to tighten against her touch. I wrap my arms around her rib cage as I groan, pulling one hard nipple into my mouth.

"God, Bella," I grunt out as she firmly grasps me while biting her lip. "You're perfect."

For a moment she looks like she is going to argue, but then my fingers are pumping into her again in time with the strokes of her hand, and she seems to forget everything but what I'm making her feel. I can relate to the sensation of being completely at the mercy of someone else.

It's a miracle, and I pray this isn't a dream.

As I make firmer circles on her clit, she arches off the bed again and removes her hands from my body, only to wrap them around the metal bars that make up her headboard.

I'm glad she's not touching me because I'm a moment away from losing it and would much rather come inside her.

I rub myself against her slick opening, and it proves a terrible way to get control of my body. Once again, I'm on the brink of completely disappointing her when she speaks.

"Condom," she says with a pant, arching off the bed and causing our hip bones to crash together. Even a little pain feels good when Bella is around.

"Where?" I ask, suddenly frantic that she doesn't have any and that this isn't going to happen.

"Night stand drawer," she says, her words more air then sounds.

Keeping my body as close to Bella's as possible, I stick a hand in the drawer and sigh in relief when my fingers lock on something square and foil.

Bella snatches the protective measure from my hand as I go to wrap my equipment, and I stare at her, confused.

"Let me," she whispers, her eyes never leaving my face.

I hand the condom over and whimper pathetically when she opens it with her teeth before slowly rolling the latex down my length.

In a matter of moments, I'm once again inside the woman I love. Fighting the urge to thrust frantically, I pause to calm down and get a good look at Bella. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips are parted, and her chest heaves. Her desire for me is written all over her face, and once again I can't really believe I'm here.

"I'm glad you're back," she whispers, a smile now playing around her lips. "But I'm going to murder you if you don't fucking move!"

A cross between a chuckle and a grunt escapes my chest as I do as she requests. The slow and steady pace of our joining quickly spirals out of control. Every muscle in my body screams for release, but I manage to hold out until Bella's eyes roll back in her head and she screams out my name.

"Bella," I say with trepidation some time later. Dealing with emotions and relationships is not Bella's strong suit. One wrong word, and she might completely freak out.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I flush with pleasure at the endearment and have to hide my face from Bella in a pillow. It's not hard because she has already left me naked in her narrow dorm bed, choosing instead to rummage around for the shorts she somehow managed to lose at the beginning of our little interlude.

"So… uh… this isn't… uhhh…" I stutter embarrassingly as Bella finds her shorts and yanks them on. She is now fully clothed

"Spit it out, Cullen," she says, losing patience with me as she moves to look at herself in the mirror. "Good grief. Look at what you've done to my hair."

"Worth it," I reply.

"Totally," she says, flashing me a stunning smile over her shoulder that makes it difficult for me to breathe for a moment. "What were you trying to say with all your mumbling?"

Turning to face me, Bella plants her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow. She obviously thinks I'm insane. Slowly she approaches me, biting her lip and driving me a little crazy.

"Well…" I sit up in Bella's bed, making sure to keep my waist covered. I talk super fast and use my hands more than necessary. "Just that this obviously isn't a one-time thing anymore. I guess. Because it's happened twice. Well, more than twice, really. Much more than twice. What I meant was two separate occasions, not just two—"

Bella places a palm over my mouth, thankfully cutting off my ridiculous rambling.

"Believe it or not," she says, sitting next to me on the bed. One of her hands rests on my hip while the other cradles my jaw. "I'm well aware of exactly how many times we've done it. They're quite memorable for me. How about you?"

I nod vigorously because her words leave me somewhat speechless. I make her feel good. I am memorable.

She pulls my face close to hers, and I get lost in her eyes, as is typical.

"I'm not quite done with you yet, Edward," she murmurs against my lips. She so rarely says my real name. It's thrilling. "Are you done with me?"

"Hell no," I exclaim, aghast at the idea of ever being done with her.

"Good. So we keep on fuckin' and nothin' else changes. Is that okay with you?" she asks, looking serious.

I kiss her softly, pleased that she returns the gesture and hums in pleasure. "That's okay with me, Isabella."

"Great!" she says, leaping off the bed and tossing my shirt in my face. "Get up, lover. I'm starving with a meal plan burning a hole in my pocket. Let me feed you."

Who could argue with that?

August 25, 2005

"Goddamn, it smells good up in here," Emmett booms from the general vicinity of the front door. I glance up at Bella at the stove. She smiles and shakes her head at my brother's enthusiasm but continues to chop lettuce and dance around the kitchen to the reggae she has playing softly from the stereo.

She's cooking dinner at my house, in my kitchen. She is preparing a Mexican feast, cooking for all my roommates because she knows that they will eat all our dinner anyway.

I plan on plying her with margaritas to convince her to sleep over.

I've been back in Boulder less than a week, and already Bella and I have done it eleven times. Eleven. Eleven beautiful times, and I hope it is the norm. She makes it very clear that we are just "fucking." that we are still just friends, that nothing has changed.

Except everything has changed. If there was any doubt about my love for her before, that has all been erased. I'm completely crazy about her. Even more so now that we've made love.

Bella would hate me for calling it that.

"It's a fucking fiesta up in this bitch!" Emmett declares when he enters the kitchen with Jasper in tow. They are sweaty from an afternoon spent on the basketball court. I was invited, but I opted instead to study. And to watch Bella cook.

"Damn right," Bella replies as Emmett gives her a bear hug. She giggles, and I smile at the sound. I'm happy when she's happy, and especially because I know that she rarely lets herself be happy.

"There looks like there is enough for me. Is there enough for me?" Emmett steals a handful of shredded cheese as Bella smacks him away.

"There is enough for everyone if you just wait fifteen fucking minutes. If you keep pickin', I'm not givin' you shit," Bella snaps, but there is a twinkle in her eye that tells me she's really enjoying the attention.

"Can I have some, Bella?" Jasper asks, laying on his Texan charm thick and causing Bella to blush. I decide I don't like it when other people make her blush.

"Of course, Jasper. You're a patient gentlemen," she says, checking on the tray of enchiladas in the oven.

The boys join me at the table, attempting to distract me from my chemistry reading. After years of living with Alice, I've developed an insane ability to focus on my work through anything, so it's easy to ignore my pesky roommates.

"What the hell are you doing in my domain?" Rosalie enters the kitchen, scowling with her arms crossed over her chest.

"If, by 'domain,' you mean the kitchen you share with four other people I happen to be friends with, then I'm making dinner. If, by some miracle, you're able to remove your bitch face, you can even have some," Bella says, smiling sweetly.

Rosalie huffs and takes the seat next to Emmett.

Bella sets up a sort of assembly line on a counter in the kitchen, and we all shuffle along, filling our plates. Alice arrives as we settle down at the kitchen table with food and margaritas. She does a lot of squeaking in delight, as usual, but it's nice to have everyone together.

Even after the last of the delicious meal is cleared away, we linger at the table with round after round of margaritas. At some point, Alice and Jasper drift upstairs, shortly followed by Emmett and Rosalie. The moment their door slams, Bella is in my lap, straddling me and raking her hands through my hair. She kisses me hard, and I thrust up out of the chair, striving to get closer.

"Fuck me," she groans out against my lips. "That was torture."

"I quite enjoyed it," I joke. "You're an excellent cook."

She kisses me again, nibbling on my bottom lip and teasing me with her tongue.

"It's been forever since I last touched you," she says, her voice low and breathy with lust.

"Less than six hours." I don't know why I'm arguing with her. The hours spent not in contact with her have been unbearable for me as well.

We continuing our rigorous make out session until Bella shirt is unbuttoned and her hands are down my pants. I decide we need to move the party upstairs, and I carry her to my bed as she kisses my neck and strokes my hair. It feels tender, and I try reminding myself that we are just friends.

The words don't take root in my brain, and probably never will.

Late that night, I lie sated with Bella in my arms. Her head is pillowed on my chest, and her leg is slung over my waist. I play with her hair while she traces patterns on my chest absently.

"It's been quite the first week back," Bella murmurs. Her eyes are closed, and a small smile plays around her lips. I kiss her temple and pull her closer. She hums in pleasure.

"Yeah. My classes are unexpectedly enjoyable," I joke. She pinches my side in retaliation. "But being here with you is much preferable."

"That's better," she murmurs. I hope she is falling asleep. My goal is to get her to spend the night. We've shared the same bed before throughout the night. It seems ridiculous that she refuses to stay now that we're doing what most people our age do when they sleep together.

"What time is it?" she asks, and I know what's coming.

"Around two-thirty," I reply, my grip tightening on her waist.

"Shit," she says, attempting to sit up. I don't let her move, and she glares at me. "The buses stop running at three a.m. I have to haul ass if I don't want to walk back to Hallett."

"Bella, don't be ridiculous. Just stay here."

"I don't know…"

There is doubt in her voice, so I know I can change her mind. She just needs to be convinced. I roll on top of her, and she gasps.

"Please," I whisper against her neck. "Please stay." I kiss the base of her throat.

"I really… really… ah that feels good… You don't play fair." I can't help but smirk against her skin as I continue to kiss and feel my way across her body.

"Stay, Bella," I plead, moving down her stomach to the Promised Land. I'm still not very good at this, but Bella sure seems to enjoy it. Almost as much as I do.

I kiss the inside of each thigh.

"Stay."

"K."

Grinning like an idiot, I set about the business of making her feel good, pleased that I can be just a persuasive as her. Ah, progress.

* * *

**Thank for reading!**


	14. A Round of Applause

December 23, 2010

I find a box of forgotten possessions in the back of Edward's – I mean my – walk-in closet. It's not very big and is stuffed with the few things I left behind when I took off. I've never been able to afford much in the way of the material things, but I left so suddenly I didn't have time to grab everything.

When I ran into Jacob with my duffle slung over my shoulder, I instructed him to tell Alice to give the rest to Goodwill.

She didn't listen, apparently.

This little trip down memory lane is really not wanted at the moment.

I spent the night with Edward. Again. Edward ran away. Again.

Why is it that I seem incapable of progress? I just keep making the same stupid mistakes.

I know I have to tell him everything, but it's incredibly difficult when he won't even fucking talk to me.

In the box of Bella past, I find mostly clothes: a sweater, a hoodie, and a pair of jeans, none of which were my favorites anyway. There's a shit ton of books, novels, and the occasional text book. I smile as I run my fingers lovingly over the spines of my favorites. The greats reside in this box- Shakespeare and Austen, Hurston and Cervantes, Dickens and Winterson, Twain and Woolf.

Edward has read every one that I asked him to. We would stay up late, sipping on tea and discussing and fucking.

I miss him.

Stupid, fucking Alice. Keeping all this crap and making me feel.

Her Christmas party is tonight. I'm really not in the mood to be social, to pretend that everything is okay. That I'm a happy, normal person that likes happy, normal people.

I fucking hate the people.

Not Edward, though.

Damn it.

The pictures make me feel even worse than the books. The visual proof of my once-ignored happiness is staring at me. I look peaceful with Edward in the photos. How did I not see it at the time?

The box does not make me feel better - I doubt anything can. But at least I find a fuck hot dress to wear tonight.

After two years away, I feel totally fucking different, so I shouldn't be surprised that Alice's Annual Christmas Extravaganza has changed, too. The decorations and formal dress code are the same, but the people are different.

In the past, the party has been about getting shit-faced and letting loose. The crowd was all college kids, and they did college kid things. Two years ago, I would have considered everyone in attendance a friend.

This year, all I see is a bunch of grown-ups. Though there are a few familiar faces, these adults are mostly strangers.

I get dressed in Edward's room. I still think of it this way, even though technically it's mine now. I'm anxious to see him, so I dress extra carefully. The vintage midnight blue dress is a sweetheart cut with wide straps and a cinched waist. Alice gave it to me for my twentieth, and I can't remember ever wearing it. It ends above my knee, and my legs are killer in my tall, pewter heels. I keep my hair down and my makeup natural, because I know what Edward likes. It feels a little strange; dressing for a boy is not something I've consciously done before. But I've thrown out all the old rules now. Edward is worth it.

I descend the stairs just as the party starts, feeling immediately out of place because I don't know any of these people. They're all work friends. Emmett and Rose are talking jovially with three men in suits and two flashy women. Alice and Jasper are nowhere to be seen, and I don't know how the others will introduce me to their friends, so I loiter awkwardly by the base of the stairs until the blond man notices me.

"Hello there," he says, beckoning to me from across the room. "I don't recognize your face."

It's an odd thing to say, but I feel so isolated and insecure, I jump on his invitation to join the group. Rosalie looks mildly annoyed, while Emmett doesn't look at me at all. They continue their conversation as if I don't exist.

"I'm Collin," he says, shaking my hand. He stands a little too close and his gaze lingers on my tits a little too long.

"Bella," I reply, removing my hand from his.

"Bella," he repeats with a smile. "How fitting. That means beautiful in Italian."

Rosalie snorts as I try not to roll my eyes. Already, this guy is laying it on pretty thick. "Yeah, so I've been told."

"Are you new to this crowd?" he asks, eyes still roaming a little too freely over my figure. I glance at the door, willing Edward to arrive. "There is no way I would have forgotten that face."

"No, not new at all," I reply. My tone is borderline rude, and I remind myself to be polite. This is a nice, mature, grown-up party, and I must be civilized. "Actually, we go way back." I nod towards Em and Rose, who are still talking with the rest of the group.

"Really? How do you know the hosts?"

"Alice and I were roommates our freshman year of college," I explain, looking at his glass of wine with envy. More people start to trickle in, but none of them are my Adonis. "Rose and I have known each other since middle school."

"Bella… Right, Bella. I think I've heard about you. The resident wild child, huh?"

"I suppose," I mutter through my blush. Whatever this man has heard about me, I know it's not complimentary.

"Emmett has a thousand Isabella stories. Usually they involve injury or punching."

I begrudgingly laugh at that. "We had a real good time in college," I reply. "So how do you know our hosts?"

"I work with Emmett at Whole Foods. I'm in customer service. And what is it you do?"

"I'm actually between jobs at the moment," I say, glancing at the door again. It opens, and this time I recognize Kate and Garrett. I'm in no rush to catch up with the pair, so I turn back to Collin. "My last job was at a bookstore, but what I really want to do is write."

"Really? Are you looking for a new job, then?" he asks.

"Yes. Well, sort of. I just got back to town a couple days ago, and I haven't really started to actively look, but I'm going to after Christmas."

"Well," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket and emerging with a business card. "Whole Foods is looking for someone in P.R. It would be just writing press releases and memos mostly, but give me a call after the holiday. We'll set something up."

I beam at him and accept the card. We chat for a few moments, and he introduces me to the rest of the group. Everyone works with Emmett, and I'm glad that Rosalie just ignores me rather then being a total bitch. I make a joke, and Collin laughs loudly, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Of course, this is the moment Edward steps through the door with a tan, dark-haired beauty gripping his arm. Collin's voice morphs to buzzing in my ear as I focus on the smiling couple. They separate after crossing the threshold. Edward helps the woman remove her jacket, before shimmying out of his own and laying both carefully on the living room couch that is serving as a coat rack. He runs a hand through his hair as I take him in.

He wears khaki pants and black leather shoes with a white button-up, a black tie, and a hunter green vest. Edward is so beautiful, my heart aches. The elastic bands are back, urging me to go to him, but my feet remain fucking planted.

I'm scared that I've broken him. This Edward is cynical and pessimistic and yells. I don't want to destroy him further, but I can't live without him.

I'm at a total fucking loss.

His companion smiles as she whispers something in his ear. She is crazy gorgeous in her deep red dress that lies over tan skin. Her hair is long and straight, and her almond-shaped eyes look just like honey.

Her hand is on Edward's shoulder, and I wish I possessed vampire-like abilities. Her hand would be removed from her body before she could come in contact with his bicep.

Edward's smile disappears the moment he locks onto my gaze. Even though he hates me right now, the rest of the party ceases to exist. I forget to breathe as he scorches me with those fucking green eyes of his. I don't know if its lust or hate or love or a combination of the three, but Collin says my name multiple times before I reply.

"I'm sorry," I say, reluctantly tuning back into the conversation. "What was that?"

"Do you want to get a drink?" he asks, looking at me quizzically.

"Fuck yes," I reply, forgetting that I'm at an adult party, and such words are unacceptable.

Collin laughs and guides me to the kitchen with a hand on my back. I feel Edward's eyes boring into the back of my skull until I turn the corner and disappear from his sight.

October 14, 2005

"What's the matter, baby Bells?" Jake asks from my side. We are lying shoulder to shoulder on the top of a grassy hill, passing a joint back and forth in a routine that calms me with its familiarity.

"What makes you think somethins' the matter, Jakey?" I close my eyes and feel like my body is melting into the earth. I like it. I like being the earth. It's a vast improvement to being me. Bella Swan, the unlovable. Bella Swan, the ruiner of Edward Cullen.

He's just my opposite, and I'm soiling him for a couple of orgasms.

Okay, a lot of really, really, really mind bogglingly triumphant orgasms.

God.

"You're real quiet this afternoon." His voice infiltrates my consciousness and threatens to pull me out of my fragile peace. My fingers run over the prickly green grass as I try to stay grounded.

"Deep in thinkin' mode," I explain. "That's all."

"You know, I barely ever see you these days." I hear him roll next to me, probably to face me, and he plays with my hair. I want to tell him to stop, that I only want one person playing with my hair. But that feeling is irrational, unexplainable, so I keep my mouth shut.

"You're seein' me now," I murmur, accepting the joint from Jake for seemingly the zillionth time.

"You're always with Edward Cullen. I don't like it."

"I don't give a flying fuck if you don't like it. It's none of your damn business." My whole body tenses for a moment, but I feel the grass and the earth and relax again. "He's my friend," I continue, trying to convince both of us.

"So you say. You're still fucking him, aren't you?" After months of hiding Edward from my best friend, Jake happened upon Edward and me canoodling at a party a couple of weeks ago. Of all the parties in all of Boulder, the universe sent Jake and me to the same one. This is the first time I've been alone with him since he caught me with my hand down Edward's pants in a dark corner.

"A little bit," I answer. What a stupid fucking thing to stay.

"You're fucking him a little bit?"

"Okay," I admit. "A lot bit. There has been a lot of fucking."

"Since when?" he asks.

"Since when what?" I'm being purposely obtuse to avoid this line of questioning. "And you're killing my buzz."

"How long have you been fucking Cullen?" Jake growls out.

I roll to face him and stare at the irate face of my oldest friend. He looks pissed and hurt, and I don't understand it. We stopped being jealous of each other's hook-ups long ago. He gets it. Gets me. Gets that I can't do the whole boyfriend, committed relationship route. He has just as much random, meaningless sex as I do. He didn't get upset when I fucked our friend Sam the summer before college.

"Pretty much since the beginning of the semester," I admit begrudgingly.

"Why? Is he that good?" he says with a snort, his eyes narrowing at me.

I take a moment to fantasize about just how good Edward is, and Jake catches the lustful look on my face. He huffs and looks horrified.

"But he's such a fucking dweeb," Jake continues. "What the fuck do you even talk about?"

"We don't do a lot of talking, Jakey." This is not exactly true at all, actually, but fucking is what Jake understands. He is already freaked out enough that I'm spending so much time with Edward. He doesn't need to know the details.

Truthfully, Edward and I do as much talking as we do fucking. It's weird, and Jake certainly doesn't need to know about it.

"Is he better than me?" he demands.

"We are so totally not having this conversation," I say, sitting up and gathering my crap.

"We so totally are!" he yells back, grabbing my wrist to keep me from stalking away. "I thought… shit."

"Thought what, Jakey?" I ask, placing a hand on his large shoulder in my concern. He just looks so distraught.

"I thought that the reason that we're not together because you don't do boyfriends ,or long term, or anything like that," he says. "Yet here you are, spending months fucking Cullen. In a relationship with the motherfucker."

"We aren't in a relationship. We're just fucking, not walking down the aisle or some shit. He isn't my boyfriend or anything."

"Are you sure about that, Bells?" he asks, frowning at me.

I nod in response.

"He's not your usual type. He's a fucking nerdy college kid. He doesn't even smoke, for fuck's sake! Plus, you never stay with the same dude for so long. You don't do boyfriends, and you don't do commitment. You don't want to be with me, but I always thought it was because you just didn't work that way. But if you change your mind…"

I stare at Jake in horror. "I'm not going to change my mind," I say in a rush. "Jake, you are my soul sibling, my brother from another mother, my best friend for all eternity. But the romance part of our relationship will never be. You're going to find an amazing girl who won't put up with your shit."

"You don't put up with my shit," he grumbles, absently picking at the green grass by his feet.

"Edward's just a fuck," I say again, even though it makes my tummy hurt inexplicably.

"Whatever you say, Bella," he says, rising and extending a hand to me. I take it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. "Longboarding?"

"Totally," I agree with a grin. A long board is Jake's preferred mode of transportation, and there is something freeing about flying down the hills in Boulder. I'm supposed to meet Edward later, but I see no harm in being a little late. He's just a fuck, after all.

An hour and a half later, I'm in the ER, and my wrist is bent at an awkward angle. I wish I could say this is the first time it's happened, but alas- I've always been fucking accident-prone.

They shuffle me upstairs to a room where they test my brain because apparent, I hit my head when I fell.

I fucking hate hospitals. I hate feeling weak and out of control. And- though I would never admit it- scared too. I feel surrounded by the presence of death, and the thought makes my skin crawl.

They wrap my wrist in a cast and still don't let me leave. They say I might have a concussion, and I have to spend the night. I'm so angry, but mostly the mad is just a cover for the absolute panic I feel at the thought of staying the night with the sterile white linoleum and polluted oxygen and dead people.

I want to call Edward and then I get mad at myself for being weak enough to want to call him in the first place. Grabbing the remote control, I turn on the shitty little TV suspended from the ceiling and begin rapidly changing the channels, just for something to do.

Also, to keep myself from crying.

I want to call Renee too, but that makes me even madder than when I wanted to call Edward. My thumb moves more frantically on the channel changing button. I hate myself. I hate this hospital. I hate my mom for leaving and Edward for making me feel too much.

I keep my eyes on the TV to keep myself from crying like a fucking pansy.

So, of course, it's at this moment that my favorite velvet voice speaks from the doorway.

"How can you even see what's on the television?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious.

I'm both relieved and horrified that he's here. I want him to pull me into his arms and kiss my temple and make everything better.

"Fuck you," I hiss, refusing to look at him. If I see him, I'm going to completely lose it.

I hate myself more for wanting him and letting him have the power over me to make it better. He has never seen me this pathetic. This vulnerable. This weak.

"How are you doing?" he asks softly. His sneakers squeak on the grey floor as he moves across the room to sit next to my bed. Still, I don't look at him.

"Fuckin' great. I'm all sunshine and rainbows and puppies. How the fuck do you think I'm doing?" I snap because I can't help it. He needs to leave. Right the fuck now. I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want to want him here.

He sighs heavily as if I'm a fucking child, throwing a temper tantrum. Which is really pretty accurate, though I don't like him regarding me that way.

"What happened?" he asks, reaching out to touch me. I shimmy away from his hand and almost fall off the opposite side of the bed in my desperation to get away from him. If he touches me, I'll completely lose it.

"Broke my wrist," I mutter, eyes still fixated on the rapidly changing channels on the television.

"Yes, I got that." He is losing patience with me, and for whatever reason, this only pisses me off further. "How did you break your wrist?"

"I fell."

"Bella…"

"God, can you just shut the fuck up?" I hiss, tossing the remote across the room in my frustration.

"Fine." Out of the corner of my eye, I see him lean back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest and looking distraught.

I recognize that I'm being a total fucking bitch, but I can't seem to stop. It's for his own good. Maybe now he will see who I really am. I'm not good. I'm not lovable. And it's time Edward understands this.

Why is he still here? How did he even know to find me here?

"Is your mom around? Or Jacob, maybe?" Edward asks after a few moments of silence.

"Fuck, no," I say.

"She would want to know you're in the hospital- that you're okay," he says quietly.

I huff and cross my arms over my chest.

"Why didn't you call her?" he continues. My fists clench in my anger at him and me and this fucking hospital. Slowly, I turn to him, choosing to ignore the hurt and trepidation in his eyes that already see too much.

"I didn't fucking call her because I didn't fucking want her here!" I burst out.

"And why didn't you call me?" he asks, looking into his lap.

"Why in the fuck would I even fucking think to fucking call you?" My voice steadily rises in volume and pitch in my hysteria. He needs to get the fuck away from me. Right the fuck now.

"Bella—"

"No!" I say, cutting off his attempt to pacify me. "There is no fucking reason for me to call you. You aren't my boyfriend. You're some dude I'm fucking. That's it."

"Really, Bella?" he demands, frowning at me. "Are you still that much in denial?"

"Fuck you."

"It's been four months, Bella," he says with a strained voice. "We go out. We aren't seeing anyone else. You care about me, as I do you. Why are you still fighting it?"

"I can't fucking believe I'm hearing this. I knew you couldn't fucking handle the fucking. I told you – fucking told you – again and again that it was just sex. Nothing has changed." I sputter at him and try not to cry.

"Bullshit. You're lying, to me and to yourself."

Of course I am. Why won't he leave?

"I'm not fucking lying! You're not my fucking boyfriend, and I don't fucking want you here." I'm yelling to keep from crying. I think.

"You don't mean that," he says, looking down again.

"STOP FUCKING TELLING ME WHAT I FUCKING MEAN!" I yell, punching a pillow because Edward is too far away to punch, and I don't like hurting him anyway. "You always do that. Make assumptions about me based on I don't even fucking know what- science or observation or some bullshit. You aren't listening. You aren't my boyfriend. You will never be my boyfriend. YOU ARE NOT IMPORTANT! The only reason I keep you around is because of the things you do with your cock, but it's not even worth it anymore. Dealing with your motherfucking emotional shit. So fuck you and your fucking misperceptions and get the fuck out!"

He looks heartbroken, and I'm glad because he finally sees how I am. This is it. I'm not good for him, and I'm glad he's coming to understand that.

But then he slowly stands and walks out the door. Just like I asked. He leaves. The moment I lose sight of him, I really do lose it. I cry harder than I have since Renee left, and somehow this seems much worse. Even if it had to be done.

Two weeks out of the hospital, and Jake forces me to go out. I don't think I've left campus since then, nor have I had any interaction with Edward. I go to class, smoke, go back to my dorm room, smoke, go back to class, smoke, back to my room. I do my job as an RA like a zombie. Occasionally, Angela forces me into the dining hall. I think I've only showered twice, and strangers look at me with fear.

I guess one could say that I'm wallowing.

Couldn't say why, though. Just in a funk, I suppose.

That's what I tell Jake when he badgers me incessantly about going to a party at Paul's. I tell him I'm not up for dealing with the old high school crowd, but he scoffs at me and says he doesn't even recognize me.

Also, I haven't really been sleeping. I can't fill up the bed on my own, and somehow this keeps me from sleeping.

I obviously need a change.

So I snap out of it and agree. I need to get back to old Bella. Back to the old distractions. I can't depend on anyone for happiness, least of all myself, so I decide to go back to the way things used to be. The biggest problem, far as I can tell, is forcing myself to be interested in all those not-Edward distractions.

There are sure to be plenty at the party tonight.

I obviously can't handle being a one-man kinda gal. I really fucking failed at that, but there is no use wallowing.

After a shower- during which I wash my hair at least three times to make up for the last two weeks, I dress carefully in a tight, strapless grey dress with a wide yellow belt. I attempt to calm my hair, but my work has the opposite effect and my locks are more wild than usual. The look is completed with smoky eyes, red lips, and Chucks.

Jake and I smoke up as we walk to Paul's place on The Hill.

"Drink up, baby Bells," Jake says, handing me a red Solo cup full of some sort of Sunny D concoction when we arrive. It looks and smells repulsive, but I chug the whole thing in one disgusting gulp and stick it towards Jake for a refill.

"Shit. I didn't expect you to take my advice quite so literally," he says with a chuckle. I shrug and scan the crowd for tonight's distraction. It's an old, familiar routine. It should be comforting, but in reality, it's more depressing.

Jake slings his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the kitchen.

"Bella! Hey, guuurlll." Paul launches himself at me, and I half-heartedly return his hug. He's never been my favorite of the neighborhood boys I went to high school with. He smells like rum and vomit. "Long time no see. Where you been?"

"Around," I reply, eyeing the bottles and shot glasses lined up on the kitchen counter.

"Not anywhere I've been, am I right Jake?" Paul says, elbowing my best friend. Jake shakes his head but still looks amused at my obvious distaste for Paul. "When was the last time you were at a party?"

"Couple weeks," I reply, giving in and pouring myself a double of whiskey.

"Hey, Bella." I turn my head after I take my shot to see Jake's older sister, Rachel, approach. She's been dating Paul for the last three years, much to the displeasure of Jake. I don't really get the pairing. Rachel is chill and cool, and Paul is a giant dick.

"Hello, Rach," I reply, giving her a brief one-armed hug. "How's the new job?"

"Lame, corporate bullshit," she scoffs, ignoring her drunk-ass boyfriend who's handing all over her. "But I'm really enjoying the paycheck. Being a grown up is weird."

"Wouldn't know," I reply with a chuckle.

"Of course you wouldn't. You have the emotional range of a four-year-old." The voice coming from behind me has my eye twitching in loathing. I know that nasally drawl.

"Fuck you very much, Victoria," I say brightly as the red-headed witch slides up next to me. Her huge, curly hair is combed into a fro, and her ice-blue eyes are narrowed at me in dislike. I take in her truly whorish wardrobe and see that she really hasn't changed. She wears ripped fishnets, sliver stilettos, and a shiny purple mini dress with strategic cutouts.

Slut.

I glance around for someone to save me, but they've all abandoned me, not wanting to deal with our old rivalry.

"Paul's right. We haven't seen much of you since this summer. Not that you've been missed in the slightest." She scowls down at me, and I wish for six inches in height. I hate that she's taller than me.

And that sure as fuck isn't all I hate about Victoria. We've been frenemies since middle school. Actually, just straight up enemies is more accurate. Rosalie was the one thing forcing us to be civil towards each other. Usually, I go out of my way to avoid her.

The fact that I hung out with her boyfriend several times last summer probably hasn't helped improve our relationship.

"So where have you been, Bella? Stealing people's boyfriends?"

Victoria and I have a long, bloody history of fighting over the same boys, though she always got a lot more emotional about the whole thing.

"Give it a rest, Victoria," I say quietly, finishing the rest of my drink. "Can't we all just get along?"

"Get along? Is that what you call it now? I would call it fucking everything that moves," she says, smiling sweetly and batting her fake eyelashes.

"Fuck you," I respond with venom. And she's one to fucking talk. The girl fucked the majority of our class, back in the day.

"Oh, that's right. I've heard you're a one-man woman these days," she says with a smirk as I refrain from kicking her in the shins. My stomach bubbles at the allusion to Edward, and my skin goes cold at the look in her eye.

And I was doing such a good job, pretending that Edward doesn't exist. That I don't miss him.

"Rosalie said you have a geeky new boyfriend. Oh how the mighty have fallen," Victoria croons wistfully.

"I have no fucking clue what the fuck you're prattling on about," I reply, pleased that I'm successfully playing it cool while I die internally.

"Yes, you fucking do. You've gone all soft and squishy," she accuses. I swat away the finger she's waving in my face and wish I could physically remove it from her hand.

"What the fuck?" I say, getting pissed now. I'm just as badass as I've always been. Nothin' soft or fucking squishy about me.

"I met him once," Victoria continues. "Ran into him and his brother on Pearl Street. I must say, he's banging. If you're saying he's single now, I'll have to look him up." She pops the motherfucking P, and my hands ball into fists at my side for a moment before I pour myself another shot. And another. "I'd love to get my hands in that perma sex hair. Does he have a big cock? I bet he has a big cock."

And that is more than I can handle. I'm on the verge of a girl fight, and fucking Victoria knows it if the smirk on her face is any indication.

"Go work a corner, you cock-sucking lunatic," I tell her before I excuse myself to pour another drink. It's a miracle I get out of the situation with no violence.

An hour later, I've met Riley and have my flirty voice on.

"So Bella. That's a good name for you. Means beautiful in Italian," he says, leaning towards me and tracing a finger down my bare arm.

"So I've been told," I reply, looking up at him from beneath my eyelashes and resting a hand on his chest. "Tell me, what does Riley mean?"

"Beast in bed," he whispers in my ear. I roll my eyes but force a giggle anyway.

"Excellent," I say with a low exhale.

He leans in to kiss me, and my gaze flicks up across the room. I almost tip over when I'm met with angry emerald eyes.

Edward's leaning against the opposite wall, surrounded by people I know from high school. He stands next to an anxious-looking Alice. But most alarming, Victoria is all up on him. Her head is pillowed on his shoulder, and her talon rests on his muscled stomach. In my drunken state, the contrast of her red hair on his black t-shirt makes me feel like I'm the brink of voming all over this generic frat boy.

With reaction time slowed down by booze and weed, I let him kiss me. My mouth moves against his on its own volition. They're on autopilot, but my eyes never leave Edward's. His face falls, and he looks crushed. A moment later he pulls away from Victoria.

Riley grinds against me, groaning slightly, as my eyes follow Edward's departure. I lose sight of him and jerk away. Suddenly, I find myself desperately maneuvering through the party, towards the bathroom door behind which Edward disappeared.

I need him. Must have him right the fuck now.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I slowly push open the door. It's not locked, and I take this as a sign that he wants me to follow, as irrational as that may be.

His posture is defeated, and I hate myself a little more for hurting someone so good. With hands grasped on counter, he bows his head. His shoulders are slumped in misery, and I have to fix it. I am going to fucking die if I can't fix it.

I lock the door. The last thing I need is Victoria happening upon us and ruining everything.

With slow, silent steps, I warily approach him and rest a tentative hand on his back. Edward's whole body shudders at my touch, and I can't tell if he's relieved or angry that I followed him here.

"Who the fuck was that guy?" he demands in a low voice without turning around or really moving at all. I'm sure he can tell it's me by the electricity that flows between us whenever we're in the same room.

"No one important," I reply, mimicking his hushed tones as I take a step further and press myself into his back. Laying my head down, I curve my body around his bent form and breathe him in.

There is no smell like Edward, and the lack of it in my life was driving me insane.

"Kinda like how I'm not important?" He's trying to come off as pissed, but really he just sounds hurt.

And that's all me. I did that to him. I should just walk away now, before I inevitably hurt him more, but I can't.

"I shouldn't have said that," I reply in a rush. "I didn't mean it. You're very important to me. Too important."

His exhales loudly and leans closer to the countertop.

"Then why did you say it?" he slurs as I nuzzle into his back to get courage from his comforting Edward smell.

"Cause I was scared. I didn't want you to see me like that." It's not something I would ever admit sober, but I seem to be without a filter tonight. The lack of Edward in my life for the last two weeks has really sent me into a tailspin.

He doesn't say anything, though I can feel his frantic heart beat against my chest. It matches my own.

Overcome with a desire to see him, I slip around him and sit on the counter between his hands which are still clenched on the tile. I pull his head to my chest, hugging him tightly. I don't breath until his arms come around me.

I always feel so safe in his arms. He's at least double my size, so I feel so secure, protected. But maybe that's just Edward.

After several minutes, Edward pulls back. I keep my hands on his shoulders. He'll disappear if I stop touching him, I fear.

"I can't fucking do this anymore, Bella," he says, almost causing me to pass out from the painful idea of him no longer being in my life. "You need to give me something."

"I can't be your girlfriend, Edward," I whimper somewhat pathetically. "I just… can't."

"I know. I understand." I don't totally believe him. How could he possibly understand if I don't even fucking understand? "But you have to give me something."

I quickly wrap my legs around his waist, and bring our hips together. He's forced to steady himself with a hand on the mirror behind me, and I thrust forward slightly, trying to get closer to the hardness I feel between his legs.

This is the one thing I can give him. I can make him feel good.

He groans and rests his forehead against mine.

"I can't fucking even think about you touching other guys," he growls. "But you aren't my girlfriend, so you can be with whoever you want."

"I only want you," I answer with conviction. "And I saw fucking Victoria all up on you, too."

"Is that her name?" he asks, sounding puzzled.

"I only want you," I repeat. "And you only want me. And as long as we both feel that way, we will only see each other. How does that sound?"

"Good," he sighs, his hands moving from the counter to grip my hips. "Really good."

"Then that's how it's going to be," I whisper, bringing my lips closer to his. "And you're important. Very important. Let's just pretend I didn't say all that."

"Bella—"

"Please. Please, Edward. I've missed you these last two weeks," I say quickly, sensing he's about to say something I don't want to hear.

"I've missed you, too," he admits with a heavy sigh. I lay my head against his neck and close my eyes as I trace my fingers through his hair. Thank baby Jesus that he's letting me touch him. "But I'm still fucking pissed off at you! For the hospital, and for that shithead you kissed out there."

"Then be mad," I prompt, pulling him aggressively toward me again. I get my hands under his t-shirt and rake my fingernails down his back, causing him to hiss. "Show me just how you feel."

He's going to argue, so I cut him off with a searing kiss. Edward's hands tighten on my hips, and he groans into my mouth as he lets go- lets the shivers and two weeks of repressed emotion take over.

He kisses me back, hard enough that in the still functioning part of my brain, I wonder if he's drawn blood. I'm oddly turned on by the idea, but all coherent thoughts are banished as Edward's hands insistently yank down the top of my dress and his mouth latches onto my chest. Arching into his lips, I throw my head back into the mirror behind me. It hurts, but again, I enjoy the pain.

He bites me again, and I gasp as he moves to suck on my collarbone. It's sure to leave a mark, and I'm shockingly pleased by this. We both need a little outward display of possession after our brief and unbearable time apart.

Edward reaches under the skirt of my dress and groans against my skin when he finds me already dripping and ready. He whips my underwear off my legs with surprising speed and grace and has my moans reaching a frantic pitch as he works me with his fingers.

Desperate for him to feel even a fraction of what I feel, I reach for his fly. I manage to get the stubborn zipper down, but the moment I get my hands around him, he manacles my wrist in a large hand and holds them above my head on the mirror.

I gasp at his assertiveness and get impossibly wetter.

He's torturing me, bringing me to the absolute brink with his lips on my neck and his hand between my legs, and then backing off before the angels sing and trumpets sound.

It seems like I have no bones in my body even as my belly muscles quiver and tighten. My skin is sizzling, and I can't seem to keep quiet, even though there is a party full of people I went to high school with out there.

Nothing out there matters at all.

"Please!" I beg finally as he takes me to new heights. "Oh… Please, Edward, don't… don't stop… I need… I need you."

At my words, Edward growls – fucking growls – before lifting me off the counter and slamming me up against a nearby empty wall. The sink was in the way in our previous location, and I barely have time to process the location change when Edward pushes into me.

Holy fuck.

Screaming his name, I come right the fuck then. But he allows me no recovery time, and all I can do is hold on. His pace is furious, and I see stars for the second time as he calls my name, joining me.

Exhausted, he leans forward, pressing me even more firmly against the wall. His arms wrap firmly around my lower back, keeping me with him even as my legs fall from his waist.

We don't speak as our breathing settles, but he kisses me with excruciating tenderness. I cradle his jaw and whimper into his mouth, suddenly feeling all these…these…feelings.

The emotions swirling in me are terrifying, but I'm too drunk and too satisfied and too relieved to be with Edward to do anything about them. Instead of listening to my head, telling me to pull away, I cling to him somewhat helplessly.

Eventually, Edward sets me down on unsteady feet but still keeps his arms around me. Good thing, too. His support is the only thing keeping me from falling on my ass.

"That was… that…" My tongue fumbles around drunkenly in my mouth as my brain struggles to conjure the adjectives to correctly describe the life changing sex that just happened.

"I'm sorry," Edward says abruptly, jumping away from me in an apparent panic. He leaves me leaning heavily on the wall with my dress bunched around my waist and my tits hanging out of my strapless bra. "Did I hurt you?"

"Mahumph?" Stupid, not-working brain.

He attempts to pace, but his jeans and boxers reside around his ankles, making it difficult.

"Did I hurt you, Bella?"

I blink at him, having no fucking clue what the fuck he is talking about.

"Bella," he groans out, stalking back over to me and taking my face in between his hands. "Please say something, sweetheart. Are you okay?"

"O…kay?" I'm firmly in la-la land. Struck stupid in a daze of orgasmic bliss.

What does okay even mean?

"You don't look okay. What's wrong?" His freak-out is beyond my realm of comprehension.

"I'm…amazing," I reply finally, unable to contain the smile that spreads across my face as my body continues to settle. "That was the single best sex I've had in the entirety of my life."

Edward looks confused for a moment before he smirks at me. Smirks! What happened to my fumbling, little-for-all-purposes virgin?

As cheesy and Madonna-esque as it sounds, I feel more like the virgin in this situation.

Edward kisses me firmly but quickly before pulling his pants back on. My fingers, much like my tongue and my stupid brain, are not working right, so Edward helps me straighten my dress and fix my hair.

I'm sure I look a hot mess, but I so totally do not fucking care.

Edward opens the door, and I step out of my new favorite bathroom, only to be met with applause.

Thirty-something people, many of whom I went to high school with, are scattered about the hall. Some look amused, some leer and some look pissed that they've had to hold it so I could get my orgasm on. They all stare, and most clap.

I blink at them in response.

Edward stands next to me, and the catcalls increase exponentially. My face flames as I look up at Edward, who has somehow managed to pull off the perfect balance between embarrassed and self-satisfied.

He puts an arm around my shoulders, and I bury my head in his chest.

"Take me home, Edward," I whisper.

He knows I mean the house on Goss not my characterless, Edward-less dorm room.

"So, what's the deal?" Rosalie asks as she applies yet another layer of fucking mascara. "You and Edward are back together?"

I shrug, refusing to look up from my novel as I recline on her bed.

"Answer the question, you snotty little bitch," she snaps, turning around at her vanity and brandishing her mascara at me.

"Well, when you ask so nicely," I reply.

"Seriously, Bella," Alice puts in as she emerges from Rosalie's closet with six pairs of earrings in her hands. The two of them are preparing for a night on the town with their menfolk. I don't have any desire to go anywhere but to bed with Edward. So that's what I'll do. The girls gave me a whole lot of shit for the decision to stay in, but I don't give a fuck. "I would like to know about your sudden reappearance in my brother's life as well. They fucked in a bathroom at that party we went to last week," she says, turning to Rosalie.

"At Paul's?" Rose shrieks, turning on her stool to gape at me again. "You dirty little whore. How do you not have a UTI? That house is a pit."

"And everyone heard everything," Alice continues as if I'm not even here. "People clapped when they came out. I've never seen anyone look that embarrassed."

"Who, Edward?"

"No," Alice says with a snort, "Bella. She was so red! Edward looked a little pleased with himself. It was weird."

"You were embarrassed?" Rosalie looks at me like she doesn't even recognize me. Which is valid, because I don't typically get embarrassed. True, I've never been applauded for my efforts, but I've had sex in far more public locations than a bathroom at a party. "Who are you?"

I sigh dramatically and cover my head with a pillow.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Rosalie says. "You don't know where it's been."

I squeal in disgust and hurl the offending object in Rosalie's general direction.

"You're a dirty slut, Rosalie Hale," I mutter.

"Fuck you. You are so much sluttier then me, slut."

She's the one in a red dress that should really be a shirt, while I'm in a pair of Edward's boxers – rolled up so they actually stay on my hips – and a tank top. I think our outfits win this argument for me.

I'm about to retaliate, but Alice interrupts me. "Enough. Let me get this straight. You said something horrible to him at the hospital, and then you didn't talk for two weeks. But then, you hooked up at this party, and now you guys are just miraculously back to normal? Whatever the hell normal even is for you two weirdos. Is that right?"

"Yeah, basically," I agree, really not wanting to talk about this anymore. My inexplicable need for Edward freaks me the fuck out, and I don't want to discuss or even think about it.

"Are you ready to admit that he's your boyfriend?" Rosalie asks with an evil grin.

"I don't fucking do boyfriends," I snap, thinking about throwing my book at her, but then I would have no choice but to engage in this obscene conversation.

"So, if you were going out with us tonight and some random propositioned him at the club tonight, he's allowed to take her home," Rosalie states, turning back to her mirror.

"Fuck, no." Everyone is surprised by the venom in my voice. "And we aren't going."

"But you could get with anyone you want tonight?" Alice clarifies. "If you were going, of course."

"No… We are exclusive. Just fucking each other."

"So you aren't dating? Just fucking?" Rosalie continues.

"Exactly."

Alice and Rosalie look at me and then each other for a moment before bursting out into hysterical laughter. Rosalie lays her head on the vanity and beats her palm against the counter. Alice doubles over, the earrings flying from her grasp.

"Fucking cocksuckers," I say, throwing more pillows. They don't even seem to fucking notice. Bitches. "I don't get it," I say when they finally get control.

"You've got it so bad," Rosalie says, looking smug.

"You're totally in denial," Alice chimes in.

I'm too shocked to even reply.

"Come on, single lady," Rosalie says, pulling me off her bed and towards the door.

I follow numbly, watching as Alice, Jasper, Rose, and Emmett all partake in pre-club drinks. Someone sticks a beer in my hand, and I try to look normal. They look normal, my friends. They have nice, normal relationships.

Sometimes it's so depressing, being around all this happy.

Edward slinks into the room, sweatpants low on his hips, glasses perched on his nose, Poisonwood Bible – a book I forced him to read – clutched in his hand.

How I spent two weeks without him, I do not fucking know.

"Hello, love," he whispers in my ear as he puts an arm around my shoulders. "You look beautiful."

"Same," I whisper back, running my fingertips over his jaw. "And don't call me love."

Yeah, I'm real glad to be staying in tonight.


	15. The Way Things Were

**Hello all! About this chapter- it is really fackin' long. Like 10,000 words long. Which, I know some of you like. But, unfortunately, only about a tenth of it is present day. I know, I know. Many of you want more of the now. Stick with me, it's coming. And as a reward for your kindness and your patience, I will post chapter 16 later tonight. **

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

December 23, 2010

BPOV

I tap my fingers against my wine glass as I glare at Edward talking animatedly with his stunning companion across the kitchen. Occasionally, he returns my gaze. I don't even bother pretending to pay attention to this Collin person's attempts to flirt with me. It's a little pathetic, how men tend to throw themselves at me. It's the whole unattainable, tough girl mysterious vibe I've got going on.

Edward saw through that whole act real quick. But that was a long time ago, and now he's fucking ignoring me to talk to the hottie.

I must know exactly who this bitch is.

The more I seem to lose interest in the man talking my ear off, the harder he tries to hold my attention. He runs a thumb over my cheek, and I've finally had enough. I see Alice talking to Kate in the dining room and make a beeline for them without even explaining to dear Collin.

"Who the fuck is that?" I demand without preamble. Both Alice and Kate are forced to stop mid conversation to deal with my freak out. Alice looks worried, and Kate sighs heavily. But I don't give a fuck if I'm being rude.

"I see you're back, Bella," Kate says. "Oh, how I've missed you."

I give her a sarcastic smile before focusing on Alice again. "Well? Who the fuck is she?"

"Who is who?" Alice asks, faking innocence.

"You know who the fuck," I whisper-yell, clenching one hand at my side and gesturing wildly with my wine in the direction of Edward and his date.

Kate glances in the direction I'm pointing. "Oh, you mean Tia?" Kate smiles at fucking Tia and waves. Waves! Kate knows this Tia. Ergo, Tia is around a lot. Are they dating? Hell no. Edward would have never slept with me if he was seeing someone else. Does he want to date her? Have they fucked? I can tell by the way she looks at him that she wants to. Or that she has. She is totally into him. I want to punch her. Real bad.

"Isabella Swan," Alice says in a low voice, grabbing my elbow rougher than necessary. "You are not allowed, under any circumstances, to punch Tia. I do not care how drunk you get or how often Tia touches Edward's arm. There will be no punching of Tia. Am I making myself clear?"

I yank my arm out of Alice's grip. "What makes you think I would do something so morally reprehensible at your classy adult party?" Alice rolls her eyes at my sarcasm, and Kate chuckles before taking a sip of her fruity-lookin' drink.

"Wow, you really haven't changed at all," Kate comments.

"Bite me, vanilla," I say, literally snapping my teeth at her.

Kate laughs again. "Is it weird that I think I kinda actually missed you?"

"If I wasn't in crisis mode, I would be oddly touched," I reply.

"Bella, this freaking out, hyper jealous thing is really not attractive," says Alice.

"I'm not jealous," I declare defensively. It's a habit, this show no=weakness thing, and I'm trying to be better. Alice and Kate both stare at me with skepticism. "Okay, fine. I am green with jealousy. Now can someone please fill me in?"

Kate and Alice exchange an amused look.

"That's Tia," says Alice.

"You know, Tia," explains Kate.

And now I want to punch them.

"Can you cocksuckers please stop torturing me? Who is she? How do they know each other? Why did they come together?" I ask in a rush.

"Okay, okay," Alice says, chuckling at me again. "Tia is Edward's friend from school. They're lab partners or study buddies or whatever."

"Is that all? They look awfully fucking chummy for fucking lab partners," I grumble.

"Well…honestly? I think Tia wants more," Alice confesses.

"You think?" Again with the sarcasm.

"Okay, I know. She hasn't told me that she's into him, per se, but she has asked me a lot of questions about big twin that pretty much reveals her undying love," says Alice.

"Like what?"

"Just about Edward's romantic past, and if he said anything about her. You know, what girls in love ask."

I want to get wasted, but my stomach hurts too much to even think about putting anything else in it.

"Well, what about Edward? Is he into her?"

"No," Alice says with a snort. "He's ridiculously hung up on his ex."

"So you say," I mumble, realizing that I haven't even thought about the possibility of Edward being with anyone else. As bitchy and self-absorbed as it sounds, I just sort of assumed that he's waited for me. I can't picture him with anyone else. I didn't think he would get with anyone else. But that was probably all wishful thinking.

Edward is a motherfucking catch. Gorgeous, smart, funny. There is absolutely no reason for him not to enjoy his youth. For all I know, he could have become the champion of one-night stands. He could have slept with a thousand bimbos while I was gone.

I seriously might pass out.

"Alice?" I ask with trepidation. "Has Edward seen anyone in the last couple years?"

"Not really," she replies with a sigh. "I really think you should talk to the twin about this, but no. He hasn't dated anyone since you left. That I know of."

"Good," I say, sighing with relief. That doesn't mean that he hasn't slept with anyone.

"So am I right in assuming that you want to get back together with Edward?" Kate asks. She has gotten braver in the last two years. Really grown into herself. She looks good, but I would never tell her that.

"Of course," I say. "He's Edward."

"So why did you leave?" she asks.

I just shrug my shoulders and glare at her.

"Where were you?" she continues.

"Yeah, I've been wondering the same," Alice agrees, looking thoughtful. "For the whole first year you were gone, you sent me all those postcards from all those places you were. I liked the world's largest groundhog."

I chuckle, remembering that particularly ridiculous pit stop on The Bella Trip of Self Discovery.

"That's because I stopped going places," I explained. "Settled down."

"Where?" asks Alice.

"Well, I got sick of the whole nomad thing, so I actually went to uh… Forks," I explain, feeling awkward for no apparent reason.

"You've been in Forks for the last year?" Alice shrieks. "How could I possibly not know this?"

"It took about two hours of pleading with your mom before she agreed to not tell you guys. Plus, I had to promise to get my ass back to Boulder as quickly as possible. But you know how much they travel. Esme didn't know I was there until October," I explain, my words flowing from my mouth rapidly.

"You saw my parents in October? But they were here for Thanksgiving. How can this be?"

I just shrug again, not knowing what to say.

"You want to talk to Edward first," Alice continues when I remain silent.

"Yeah," I reply with a sigh. "But he is being all butt-headed about it. He won't listen. How do I get him to listen?"

"I dunno," she says with a shrug. "Persistence? I've never really seen him like this before. You really hurt him, Bella."

"I know," I say miserably, trying not to cry. I hate this night. I hate all these people. I just want to be with Edward.

"Wow," Kate muses again.

"What?" I snap defensively.

"You're actually different," she explains.

"Thanks," I say with a sigh, losing my mad. "That was kinda the point of the whole leaving thing."

"Well done," Kate says, nodding her head to me and raising her glass.

I can't tell if she is fucking with me or not, but I decide to let it go when I see Jake walk in with his new girlfriend in tow. I make my way to them, hoping his new lady love will distract me from all the ways I've managed to fuck up my life.

March 3, 2006

On off duty days, I stay at Edward's. I sleep better here with him than I do in my narrow, springy dorm bed. It's nice to be away from incessant freshmen problems. As much as I like my job, I need to get away.

I've stopped attempting to define what we are to each other, and I don't think about it much anymore. For now, I'm content to just be. Edward is too. He never badgers me to go on dates with him anymore. He hasn't asked me to be his girlfriend in months.

Edward is simply my friend who gives me mind-boggling orgasms on a regular basis.

My addiction to that boy's cock has certainly not abated.

"BELLA!" Alice screeches from the bathroom down the hall. She shares the other upstairs room with Jasper. Emmett and Rosalie sleep downstairs in the biggest room off the kitchen with its own bathroom. Everyone is grateful that they live on a different floor. I have no idea what kind of antics go on behind those doors, but it's fucking loud.

"What?" I snap back, my eyes not leaving the pages of my book. I'm re-reading Sense and Sensibility for my Georgian England Lit class, and no one gets between me and my Austen. Plus, I'm sitting on Edward's neatly made golden bed, propped up in the corner on some really excellent pillows. It's definitely one of my favorite places on the planet.

She yells something at me from the bathroom, but I can't hear her over whatever emo crap she has blasting, so I stay silent. A moment later, she stomps into the bedroom, glaring at me from the doorway with her tiny fists on her hips.

"Jesus, Alice," I reply when I glance up at her, giving in after she taps her foot obnoxiously for a moment. She is clothed only in a lacy purple bra and matching panties. "Put some pants on, you spritely fool."

"You're such a prude." She sounds ridiculously serious. We started at each other for a moment before busting into giggles. Alice doubles over, and I snort into my book. Eventually we compose ourselves, and Alice speaks. "I'm actually here to clothe myself."

"Ah. I see. Using me for my wardrobe, as usual." This is said in sarcasm, of course. Alice usually calls me a hooker, a hippy, or homeless when she sees me. Apparently, I have a couple of really great separates - whatever that means - that Alice steals regularly.

"At least you understand our friendship," she replies sweetly, marching into her brother's closet. "Do you have that slinky black mini dress here?" she asks from the depths of the walk-in.

"Fuck, Alice," I call back. "I have no idea." The fact that I have so many clothes at Edward's should freak me out, but I'm way too practical to dwell on the implications.

"Bella, this shoe is falling apart. If you'd let me take you shopping… OH! Found it. Score." Alice and I are pretty close to the same size. I'm taller and she's bustier, but we can pretty much share everything. Rose gets particularly cranky about it until someone reminds her how hot she is.

"Why are you getting all spiffed out anyway?" I ask, turning back to my book.

"Just going to get drinks with Jazz," she says, pulling my dress on over her head and body. "His best friend from home is in town. Apparently, Jasper has ranted about my striking beauty, so I have to live up to all the hype."

"It's not hype," I snort. "You're hot and you know it."

Alice rolls her eyes at me as she adjusts the fabric of the dress in the mirror she herself hung on the back of Edward's closet door.

"Hey!" she says, turning suddenly. "Want to come? Edward should be getting home soon, right?"

Just a year ago, I would have jumped at the chance to do anything that might distract me from myself, a way to get out of my own fucking head. Now, I actually prefer staying in.

Plus, Edward hates Thursdays. He has class solidly from eight a.m. to three, and then he volunteers at the hospital from four to nine. The boy is a machine, and I don't know how he does it. The plus side is that he has no classes on Fridays, and I usually reward him with breakfast.

"Naw, bre," I say, shaking my head and turning back to Jane. "You have fun, though."

"Tell me Peter will like me."

Alice is oddly nervous. It's slightly unsettling and totally out of character.

"Peter will love you," I say, meaning it.

"Tell me I look pretty."

"You look smokin'. Though that might just be the dress."

"Thanks," she says with a smile, making her exit. "Peter is just like Jasper's brother. I feel like I need to get approval."

"Alice. It's going to be great. You will be your typical charming self. Just keep the fashion diatribes to yourself and try not to predict the future, okay?"

She runs over to the bed, plants a smacking kiss on my cheek, and saunters out of the room. I really do love that semi-psychotic pixie.

Twenty minutes later, an exhausted Edward appears in the doorway. He kicks off his canvas slip on Vans towards the general direction of the closet, sighing heavily.

"God, how long have you been lying there? Reading one of your favorite books?" he demands with a loud exhale.

"Oh, about three hours," I reply, flipping a page as I continue to read. I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

"I'm so. Unbelievably. Jealous. Of you." Shucking the dark cardigan he wears over his white polo with the blue hospital logo on the breast, he crawls into bed. I lift my free arm, allowing him to rest his head on my shoulder and his arm to come around my rib cage. I run my fingers through the soft hair above his ear.

"Long day?" I ask.

"Yeah. I hate Thursdays."

"You did this to yourself, buddy," I remind him, turning another page.

"All the classes I needed to take are on Tuesdays and Thursdays this semester. Not my fault." His big, cold-from-the-outdoors hand comes to rest under my nightshirt, and I smile because Edward is cute when he's whiney. I have to reread the same paragraph three times before I finally figure out what the fuck Austen is talking about.

"And the volunteering?"

"Yeah, that was just stupid."

"I made dinner. Saved some for you from your brother. It's in the fridge," I tell him absently. He smiles, and the movement of his lips against my skin prompts me to shuffle closer to him.

"Thank you. Maybe I'll have some later, but I'm too tired to move at the moment. How was your day?"

"Fine. I talked to Charlie," I tell him casually, continuing the ruse of reading. I don't feel casual about it, though. Feeling bold, I took Edward's advice after last Thanksgiving to try with my dad. We talk on the phone now, usually once a week. The police chief is actually kind of cool. Equally cool is that I sort of really have a dad now, even if I don't see him very often.

"Oh? And how is Chief Swan?" he asks, flinging his leg between mine, rubbing my lady bits with his knee. It's weird because I'm trying to tell him about my dad and getting really turned on at the same time.

"Good. Really good. He has a new girlfriend. It took me ten minutes to weasel that information out of him. I think my blunt language makes him uncomfortable."

"I would imagine." His hand tightens on my hip, and his breath is hot on my neck. He rubs his hard-on into my thigh, and I stifle a moan.

"I'm trying to tell you about my father, and you're all up on me," I admonish, still trying to read. "Such a creeper."

He chuckles, kisses my neck, and then relaxes against me. I pout because the movement of his legs and hands feels so good. All of him always feels so good.

"Sorry, love. What else did you talk about?"

I go back to running my fingers through the hair just behind his ear in a futile attempt to calm us both down. I actually do have things I want to discuss with him.

"He says he wants to see me more often," I say softly, wishing that I wasn't so nervous. Why can't I be casual? This isn't a big deal. "He suggested that I come live with him this summer…"

"Really?" Edward's bronze head pops up enthusiastically, whacking into the book still in my hand. He sends it flying, and it clatters on the wooden floor an instant later. I try to scowl at him as he rubs his head. "Ow."

"You are such a nerd," I giggle.

"Bella." Ignoring my irritation-turned-amusement, he props himself up on one elbow and pulls on my arm until I roll slightly to look up at him. "Are you going to?"

"To what?" I ask, being deliberately obtuse.

"To live with Charlie this summer," he says with a scowl through clenched teeth. He is just so damn sexy when he's annoyed. His jaw tightens, making it even more defined. His brow furrows, giving me an excuse to touch him when I smooth it out. I giggle again as I press my lips against said jaw. Pulling him on top of me, I continue to kiss his jaw, neck, and ear.

"Isabella," he groans out as his hands begin to move over me. "Stop trying to distract me, and answer the question."

"I don't know, Edward," I reply to placate him. I've been waiting all night in his bed for him to finally come home, and I don't want to fucking talk. Of course, I probably should have fucking figured this out before I told him about talking to Charlie. "What do you think?"

He pauses for a moment, supporting his weight with his hands on either side of my head, and cocks his head to the side as he looks down at me. Edward studies me like I'm one of his fucking science projects. I wonder what's going on in that genius brain of his, and I squirm, uncomfortable under his intense gaze.

"Well, I'm going to be in Forks this summer," he says slowly, his head bending to kiss my neck. I close my eyes and breathe him in.

"Yes," I sigh out as Edward's hand finds its way back under my shirt. "I thought of that."

"Alice is staying here, so is Emmett," he continues as his teeth latch onto my ear lobe, and his thumb flicks over my nipple. I bite my lip and try to focus on what he is saying. "I'll be all alone in Forks. Just working with my dad…with so much free time on my hands."

"Humm mumph…" That's all that I can manage at the moment as Edward continues his seduction. When did he get so good at this? I want him to kiss me, and a moment later he pulls my t-shirt over my head. I've prepared for this situation accordingly, so his action leaves me only in a pair of zebra print panties.

I whimper somewhat pathetically as his mouth works its way down my neck to settle on my chest.

"God," he moans with his nose pressed against my sternum and his hands squeezing me. "I love your breasts."

"Tits," I correct, reaching up to place a hand over each of his, encouraging him to squeeze me again. He complies, and I arch off the bed into his large, lovely hands. "These are tits. Much sexier then breasts."

"They're perfect, whatever you call them," he replies, his hot mouth replacing his right hand. My breathing becomes labored, and my eyes flicker closed. Can I go all summer without this? Without Edward? I'm hopelessly addicted to him.

His teeth graze my nipple before he switches to my other tit. I'm writhing beneath him, moaning quietly as his thumb presses into the flesh by my hipbone. I thrust against him involuntarily, seeking the pleasure I know is to come.

Ha. Come. Puns are fucking funny.

My hands travel over his broad shoulders and lovely back. I love his back.

"About Forks," he says against my moist skin. His words aren't making sense to me. I don't get why he is using his mouth to fucking talk anyway. There are much better things he should be doing.

"Huh?" His hand moves lower, knuckles brushing against the now drenched fabric at my crotch. My fingers thread through his hair as I groan again.

"This summer, Isabella," he says, sounding remarkably normal. It's not fair. "Are you going to live with your dad?"

"I… dunnnn…" I'm having a difficult time forming words. Again, I lift my hips off the bed and attempt to pull him closer with my legs around his waist, but he holds me down with a large hand pressed against my lower abdomen.

In my need, I whimper pathetically again.

"I could touch you all summer," he murmurs in my ear. I want him to kiss me again. I want his tongue in my mouth.

"Humm…" is my intelligent reply.

"Would you like that, Isabella? Would you like me to touch you all summer? " His thumb finds my clit, and I cry out. He has me on the verge of begging, and I don't particularly like the power he has over me, but it feels too divine to do anything about it. I try to seek out his hard cock, which I feel between my thighs, but he continues to hold me down. I let out some embarrassing sounds in my frustration.

"Are you going to answer the question?" His thumb traces my clit softly over my panties, increasing my desire and frustration simultaneously.

"Yeaaaaa…" I finally manage as he nibbles my lip.

"Are you going to live in Forks this summer?" He slips a finger in me so fucking slowly as his thumb makes firm circles on my clit, and he lets my hips move as I rub shamelessly on him.

"Yes…touch…all summer," I cry out.

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

Edward's lips find mine, and his tongue slips into my mouth. He kisses me languidly, and his fingers work me into oblivion. At some point, I realize just how many clothes he is wearing, and I tug on his polo until he removes his hands from my body long enough to help me fling it to the floor.

With my hands in his hair, I pull his face back to mine. I love the way he kisses. The way he tastes. The way he touches me.

He adds another finger, and tremors roll through my tummy. My hands fly from his hair to the belt on his khaki pants.

"Get. These. Off."

He shucks the pants awkwardly before carefully lying down on my body. He ever so slowly pushes into me with one long stroke. I cry out in joy, hugging his body close to mine. I like the way his naked chest feels against my naked chest. Our hearts hammer away at the same pace.

"Oh… baaaby…" I moan when he grabs my tit.

"God, Bella," he groans in reply. "You feel so good."

His strokes are slow and deep. I feel him in every part of my body, and it's too much.

He has to move fast. His slow pace and the way he looks down at me as his face contorts with pleasure feel far too…tender. I feel far too much.

"More," I demand with a hiss.

I thrust up to meet him more aggressively, pulling him towards me with my hands digging into his ass. For a moment, he looks down at me like he isn't going to give in to my urging to move faster, but then his hips start pumping away.

It's easier to keep my shit on lock when I feel like I'm just fucking him.

No one has ever made me come like Edward, and I scream out his name when he far exceeds my expectations. He is always far exceeding my expectations.

He pulls me into his arms, and I lay my head on his chest. Our breathing settles, and he plays with my hair.

"So, what's the verdict?" he asks after several minutes of silence when I thought he was asleep.

"Verdict?"

"Forks? Summer?"

I smile, glad he wants me around.

"I'll strongly consider it, see if I can get a job and how serious Charlie is," I reply, snuggling closer to him.

"Good. I don't want to be without you," he says as he drifts off to sleep. I try not to dwell on his words, telling myself for the zillionth time that it's just sex.

Alone, I never sleep past seven o'clock in the morning, but with Edward, I sleep better. This morning, I make it until eight-thirty, knowing that Edward will probably stay asleep for another hour.

I move away from him anyway; it will take awhile to prepare the feast I'm planning on feeding him.

Maybe even in bed. Although that always runs the danger of letting breakfast go cold. I don't have class until this afternoon, and I'm looking forward to just being with my boy.

I kiss Edward's eyelids before I pull away, rolling out of bed. I locate a pair of fresh panties, a large t-shirt of Edward's, and a pair of thigh high purple socks. Everyone else has class early this morning, so I could go downstairs naked if I so chose.

Putting on some acoustic reggae, I pull out the ingredients to make French toast as I slide around the kitchen on my socks. As I shake my booty and whip the eggs, a foreign male voice behind me freaks me out so much, I nearly drop the whole bowl.

"Nice. Rosalie, I presume? Jazz didn't tell you were so hot."

With hands on my hips, I turn to scowl at the lanky boy standing in my kitchen in a pair of Wrangler jeans and a wrinkled plaid shirt. He scratches his mussed, dark hair. I didn't realize someone could leer and look so sleepy at the same time.

"Who the fuck are you, cocksucker?" I demand, hating how uncomfortable this stranger makes me. My language just makes him grin wider, and he comes closer, leaning against the counter near the fridge.

"Peter. Jasper's friend." Right. Obviously. I relax slightly. "You have a dirty mouth. I like it."

"Ah. I wasn't aware you were staying here." Although I should have been. Where the fuck else was he going to stay?

"I'm terribly sorry to impose on your home, little lady," he drawls, raising an eyebrow. What a dick. He's flirting with me, and he thinks I'm Rosalie, therefore he knows I have a boyfriend. Jerk.

"You're not," I reply, turning back to breakfast. "I don't live here."

"So if you ain't Rosalie, who're you?"

"You know," Edward's voice drifts from the hall, "as much as I love it when you cook me breakfast, one of these days it would be nice to actually wake up with you."

He enters the kitchen to see Peter ogling me dressed only in a t-shirt and socks. I'm momentarily distracted, because Edward isn't wearing a shirt.

"Oh," Edward says, his face falling and his voice growing cold. "Hello."

"Oh, it's you. I forgot about you," Peter says condescendingly. "You still around, then?"

"Yes." Edward's tone is clipped. He moves to me, pointedly avoiding Peter as he wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck. I giggle as I soak a piece of toast in egg. "Good morning, love."

This nickname freaks me out, but I don't say anything. Part of me is still trying to make up for how much I hurt him at the hospital.

"Good morning," I reply with a sigh. I lean back into him and close my eyes for a moment, just enjoying the sensation of being close to him.

"Sleep well?" he whispers.

I nod, biting my lip as I smile coyly up at him.

"Good. Me too." He kisses my neck before moving away and pouring himself a cup of coffee. Still smiling, I glance at Peter who is staring at me in shock.

"What?" I ask, putting the toast in a pan.

"You're with him?" Peter demands incredulously. I don't like his tone, and I go immediately on the defensive. Those who don't know Edward tend to think of him as an unbearable, socially awkward geek. Their judgment turns me into a mama bear. I don't like people looking down on Edward.

"You don't even fucking know him," I hiss under my breath.

"Oh, I know him, darlin'," Peter drawls with a sneer. "We met last year. Edward is Jasper's geeky-ass roommate. I really don't get what my best friend sees in you," Peter continues, turning his gaze onto Edward.

Edward looks down, shuffling his feet.

"I was going to offer you some breakfast, but you're just going to have to go hungry, cocksucker."

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that, baby," he croons, taking a step towards me. What the fuck is this guy's problem?

"Don't call her baby!" Edward says, angry now.

"Shit. Pussy boy has a backbone. I'm shocked and impressed."

"Listen, dick hole," I say, poking Peter in the chest. "You're a guest in his home, so stop being such a douche. You're condescending, revolting, and rude. Though, I suppose pussy boy actually is an apt name because he certainly knows his way around one. I'm willing to bet my own goddamn foot that he gave me more orgasms last night than you've given anyone in your whole goddamn life. You may be Jasper's childhood chum, but you're not a very nice person, so get the fuck out of this kitchen before I whack you over the head with this frying pan."

Still smiling, Peter raises his hands in surrender before slinking out of the room.

I take a deep breath before turning back to Edward. "Breakfast?" I ask. He smiles slightly and nods.

May 7, 2006

I'm irrationally nervous when I land at Sea-Tac with Edward. His mother is picking us up because both our fathers are at work. I'm still convinced the woman hates my guts, something Edward adamantly denies. She correctly thinks I'm corrupting her youngest. Esme would have a motherfucking coronary if she knew what we were doing up against the closet door this morning. And then again in the shower.

Lord, the memories are making me hot.

So is the way Edward's forearms ripple under the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater as he reaches up to retrieve our suitcases from the overhead. And I want to lick the little strip of skin just above his boxers exposed during the reach. And goddamn, his thighs look good encased in all that dark denim.

I go a little cross-eyed with desire as Edward snaps his fingers in my face.

"Bella?" he asks with a chuckle. Apparently he has been fucking talking to me for quite some time. And I was too busy checkin' him out to fucking notice. How embarrassing.

Wow, look at his hands. All long-fingered and masculine and capable of doing wonderful things to me. I glance up and get lost in his eyes again. They are just so goddamn green.

His brow furrows, and he looks at me quizzically. "What?" he says, fucking around with the strap to his backpack in apparent discomfort.

"Nothin'," I say, my face flushing crimson as I stare determinedly at my lap.

"Do I have something in my teeth?" he says, laughing uncomfortably again.

I shake my head and refuse to look at him. He has total power over me with his general goddamn sexiness, and I am terrified of him finding out. If I look at him, he will see everything with his science-trained eyes like he always does.

"Come on, weirdo." He's laughing at me for real this time as he tugs on my hand. "Let's get off this plane."

He kisses my temple as I pass, and I close my eyes, leaning into his touch for a moment. I have no fucking idea what I'm doing with him. How long can I just be with him? I feel suffocated when I think about it, so I avoid any thoughts of my relationship with Edward.

Seattle is grey, and already I miss Colorado.

What the fuck was I fucking thinking? I can't do this. I'm on the goddamn precipice of a complete panic attack, but then Edward slings an arm around my shoulders, instantly calming me.

I don't let myself think about how troubling his calming effect is, or I would really lose it.

"Are you okay?" he whispers in my ear as we wait by the baggage claim for our pair of huge-ass suitcases that contain all the stuff we could possibly need for the summer.

I nod into his chest and pull him closer. When he cradles me to him like this, I feel okay. Mostly.

We only wait on the curb for a moment before Esme pulls up in a fancy SUV. With an Alice-like squeal, she runs around the car and launches herself at my boy. He grins as he steps away from me, returning her hug. He lifts her off the ground as she laughs, and the whole interaction inexplicably makes me miss Renee. I hate missing Renee.

Even though she's around, I haven't let her in.

"Edward! I'm so happy that you're home for the summer. We're going to feed you up right. You're so skinny. And we really need to do something about this mop of hair." Esme sticks her fingers in Edward's silky strands, and I glare at her. Not only is she touching my boy's hair, she is talking about whacking it the fuck off.

I'm irrationally jealous of his mother. His mother. Lord, what the fuck is wrong with me?

"Mom," Edward says, gracefully detangling himself from his mother's clutches and ignoring her questions. "You remember Bella."

"Hello again, Mrs. Cullen." I'm trying to be polite, but the words feel forced on my lips.

"Hello, Bella," Esme says, giving me a quick, awkward hug with an accompanied quick, awkward smile. "And I've told you before, call me Esme. It's lovely to hear that you will be in Forks for the summer. Edward is just thrilled."

Don't want to hear that. I never want to hear that Edward has grown attached in the months we've been sleeping together. It's not unexpected, but I don't let myself think about all the damage I'll do to him when it's over. Because I'm positive, eventually it'll be over.

"Mom, let's get going, okay?" Edward says, changing the subject as he obviously sees my face.

"Bella, take the front," Edward says after placing our bags in the back.

I shake my head vigorously and attempt to move to the back. Esme scares the fuck out of me, and I don't want to be responsible for holding up conversation with the woman.

"Bella," Edward says with barely contained irritation. He snags my elbow to keep me outside the vehicle. "Take the front."

Again, I do the headshake thing and think about punching him.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffs. "You get car sick."

I put my punching desires into motion, and he sighs. Even though he doesn't agree, he helps me up after I slip on nothing. He strokes my cheek before closing the door.

I spend most of the car ride in contemplative silence, watching Edward interact with his mom. The love between the two is palatable, and again I miss my mom. Although she's been around the last couple of years, I haven't really spent much time with her. I'm wary because I feel like she's gonna take off again. But she's my mom, despite her sins, and I really do miss her.

So I spend my first four hours in a car missing a woman I hate, wanting to fuck the boy in the front seat, and trying to keep from vomiting all over Esme's expensive leather seats.

Yeah, that doesn't bode well for my summer in Forks.

My newfound relationship with my dad is all Edward's doing. Over Thanksgiving break freshmen year, he somehow gave me the strength to just talk to Charlie. So I did. About simple things, everyday things. I cooked for him and told him about my life in Colorado while he told me about Forks. When I left, we kept talking at least once a week via phone. And now I'm living with the man for the summer.

He's awake when I get home from my morning jog. The running is another thing I started doing with Edward, and though I'm slow as shit because of all the smoking, I find I enjoy it anyway.

"Holy hell, Bells," Charlie says, glancing up from his morning paper when I appear in the utility room off the kitchen. "You're soaked!"

"Yeah, random ass rain showers are not really something I'm used to worrying about. I think it's rained a total of four times this year in Boulder," I reply, grabbing a towel and attempting to dry my hair.

Charlie chuckles at me and turns back to his paper.

I run upstairs to the room Charlie kept mine even after all these years. I'm weirdly touched by the gesture. After showering and changing, I bound back downstairs and fling open the refrigerator door.

"Do you want breakfast, Charlie?" I ask as I rummage. There are slim pickin's, but I'm pleased to find some eggs and bread.

"No thanks, Bells," he says from behind his paper. "I really need to be getting down to the station in a few minutes. What do you have planned for today?"

"Well, Edward's going to take me into town to talk to Mrs. Newton about that job you told me about. Hopefully it works out."

"Good, good," Charlie says, setting down his paper and standing from the small kitchen table. "I've been meaning to ask. What exactly is going on with you two?"

I loathe this question. It makes me have to think about the answer, which I don't want to do.

"Nothin'," I say with a shrug. There is no way I'm about to tell Charlie that Edward is my fuck buddy. No way.

Charlie grunts in return before moving towards the garage door. He pauses at the threshold before briskly walking back to me, kissing my forehead, and then abruptly departs again.

I stand there blinking at him in shock for a full five minutes before my phone rings in my pocket.

"Hmm?" I manage when I answer.

"Good morning, love," Edward says cheerily into my ear.

"The weirdest thing just happened," I reply.

"And what's that?"

"Charlie just kissed me. On the forehead."

There is silence for a moment before Edward replies. "Is that it?"

"Yeah. I can't even remember him ever even hugging me. The man isn't good with emotions."

"Like father, like daughter. I always wondered where you got that," Edward says with a chuckle. "Bella, he's your dad. That's what parents do."

"Right. Because he's my parent." I sound a little dazed.

"Did I mention that I just pulled into your driveway? And am now walking up your front steps? I really think you should open your front door."

"You're such a creeper," I tell him with a laugh before hanging up on him.

I practically sprint to the door, I'm so thrilled to see him. Last night was the first in a long time that we didn't share a bed, and I could barely manage to fucking fall asleep.

"Hi," he says, grinning that crooked goddamn grin that will get him anything he wants.

"Sup, dude," I greet. My words are casual, but I'm afraid that my face betrays how happy I am to see him.

He hugs me and kisses my temple.

"Do you want breakfast?" I ask as I breeze past him into the kitchen.

"No. I don't think I'll ever eat again. My mom force fed me pancakes and French toast and eggs and bacon," Edward grumbles behind me as I stick my head in the fridge again. I'm thankful the fridge hides my face from him, because I am sure the jealousy I feel is clearly displayed. Again, irrationally I want to be the only one cooking for him.

"I'll just have a quick piece of toast, then," I say, placing the bread in the toaster and plopping myself on the counter to wait.

Edward slowly approaches me with a familiar gleam in his eye. I bite my lip and use my legs to pull him closer. He smirks at me as he settles himself between my thighs.

"Hi," I say breathily as his lips hover millimeters from mine.

"Hi," he replies with a smirk. His hands rest on my hips, and I shuffle closer to him on the countertop. He kisses me quickly, and I pout when he pulls away. "Did you miss me last night?"

I shrug and try to look bored in response.

He runs his nose along my jaw and kisses that spot just below my ear that makes me melt. I whimper against my will as he pulls away. On their own accord, my hands find their way into his hair. I love his hair. I missed his hair last night.

"I missed you," he whispers against the base of my throat. "I only got about two hours of sleep with you absent from my bed."

Never taking his eyes off mine, Edward deliberately and languidly kisses me. My lips fall open as he traces his tongue across my bottom lip. I tilt my head in an attempt to get more of him, but he is not budging.

"Did you miss me, Isabella?" He is basically purring as he tortures me on purpose.

"Not particularly," I reply petulantly as my breakfast explodes out of the toaster.

Edward sighs and shakes his head. He reaches around me, plucking the bread from the toaster and forcefully sticking it in my mouth. "Eat your toast," he mutters.

I chew with a frown as he pulls away to sit at the kitchen table. He totally has the upper hand this morning, and I don't like that he's not touching me. He's purposely making me suffer, so I'm going to make him suffer.

"So what's the agenda for the day, slugger?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Don't you want to go see about the job at Newton's Sporting Goods?" he asks, his brow furrowing. I want to smooth it out with my thumb.

"Fucking right, that's what I fucking want. I desire nothing more than to go see the Newtons. I've missed one in particular," I say wistfully.

"Hardy har har," he scoffs, his frown deepening. I do a mental fist pump in victory.

"I'm not fucking kidding, bucko," I say, licking the crumbs from my now gone breakfast from my fingertips in what I hope is a seductive manger.

He huffs and stands, slowly approaching me in that predatory way he has.

"You are so not funny."

"Fuck you. I am fucking hilarious. But I'm not joking. I can't wait to see that Mikey N."

Edward stalks across the kitchen and tilts my chin roughly so I'm looking him in the eye. He looks hot when he's pissed, and I bite my lip in anticipation. I try to appear wide-eyed and serious as he studies me, but I think I really come off as lusty.

Because I am.

All the time when he's around.

"You are not funny, Isabella," he repeats in a low, husky voice.

"Humm? What was that? I didn't hear you because I was busy fantasizing about Mike's big brown eyes." I look off into the distance and sigh dramatically.

With more force than necessary, he yanks my face back to his. Oh, he is getting rough. I love rough, in control Edward. He chuckles darkly as I glance up at him from underneath my eyelashes. He leans forward slowly, and I hope he's moving to kiss me, but at the last moment he changes course and I feel his hot breath against my ear.

"His eyes are blue, love." Goddamn it. How could I not remember even that detail?

"See? It's been so long I can't remember the color of my one true love's eyes. We should really get going." I attempt to slip off the counter, but Edward's hands clench around my thighs. He prevents me from moving, just as I wanted him to.

I try to touch his face, but he jerks away.

"You're really pushing your luck," he says through clenched teeth.

I move my knee against his bulging crotch, pleased that I'm getting to him. He is always getting to me. The heat is almost unbearable, and I need him right the fuck now.

His hands tighten on my legs again, and his thumbs move inward to just where I fucking need him.

"If you keep it up," I taunt, "you just might make me forget all about dear Michael."

I try to touch him again, but he captures my hands in the vice grip of his own. I gasp in delight as he takes control, and my panties get soaked all the way through.

"Damn right," he declares before yanking my denim skirt completely off my body in one shocking movement.

I yelp when a long finger plunges into me, and his thumb finds my clit. Again he manacles my wrists as I wiggle closer to him. His touch is not firm enough, and he is once again deliberately torturing me.

I want his tongue in my mouth, and he knows it, and he once again keeps our kiss far too chaste. I groan in frustration. He has the audacity to chuckle at my plight.

"What's his name, Bella?" His velvet voice is low and sexy and makes me want to come right then and there. "The name of this guy you are so desperate to see?"

I'm vaguely aware that Edward is asking me a question, but his words aren't registering. Nothing makes sense as his fingers slowly withdraw from my pussy. I struggle against his restraining hold, desperate to touch him. To bring him closer. I thrash about a bit and whimper in frustration.

"Bella," he moans in my ear. His free and soaked-with-Bella-juice hand unzips his jeans, which easily fall to the floor. "Do you want me to touch you?"

Oh, fuck yes. I nod like an idiot.

"Then answer the question." Somehow, he magics his boxers down his beautiful thighs, and the wonder cock is in full view.

I try to open my eyes to look at him in puzzlement, because I can't remember there being a question, but my body is no longer responding to my brain.

"Whaaa…?" I attempt.

"What's. His. Name." Each word is punctuated with a ruthless bit of finger fucking, and I almost lose it.

"Bella. His name. Now."

Crap. What the crap is his name? The only other being I have room in my head for is Edward. Edward touching me. Edward kissing me. Edward fucking me. And I'm not going to get any of that unless I answer the question.

"Murphy?" I venture.

"Good answer," he hisses as he pulls me forward on the counter, lining my entrance up with my favorite organ ever. Once again, I struggle to get closer, and this time he lets me get my hands on him. Thank fuck.

His tip teases my clit, and I almost cry, the torture is so fucking divine.

"He doesn't touch you, got that?" Edward's words are harsh, and he bites down on my collarbone, causing me to cry out. "Only I touch you. You're mine."

My legs attempt to draw him closer, and my feet dig into his damn Greek God ass in desperation.

"Yours," I echo, forgetting that this demonstration of possession should freak me out.

All thought leaves my head as he rams into me the moment the word leaves my lips. He sets a furious pace, and I am beside myself with pleasure.

"Edward!" I cry out in a moment of extreme and shocking enunciation. I know how he likes me to say his name, and his already driving pace becomes fiercer.

"Fuck, you feel good," he moans as I try to keep up.

I love it when Edward fucks me. He loves it too, and after a few minutes he's sweaty and grunting. My hands latch onto his broad back. I hold on for the ride, and let him fuck me into oblivion.

I scream his name as I come, and he follows me with an answering exultation a moment later. We don't move as our rapid breathing settles for a drawn out moment.

"My legs are going to give out," he mumbles into my neck as he lifts me off the counter top and stumbles across the room with me wrapped around him to a nearby chair. I pout as the movement causes him to slip out of me before settling into his lap in our new seated position. My legs dangle listlessly on either side of the chair, and he holds me close.

"Did you miss me?" he whispers into my hair after our breathing returns to a normal rate. "Last night? Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did," I begrudgingly admit. "My bed was so cold without you in it."

I hug him close, but the moment is quickly becoming too intimate, so I pull back to see his face.

"That's one way to prepare for a job interview," I say as I try (and thankfully fail) to flatten Edward's wild bronze hair.

Edward chuckles at my statement, and I chuckle back when I glance down at us. We look ridiculous.

"How did we manage to keep our top halves clothed?" I ask.

"This is a terrible oversight," Edward says with mock horror. "Allow me to rectify the situation." He begins to fiddle with the buttons on my red shirt, but I smack his hands away.

"We don't have time for that now," I scold. "Also, never say rectify when your naked cock is so close to my equally naked lady bit."

"Never say cock and naked lady bit unless you are planning to do something with all that," Edward groans, once again attempting to get me out of my remaining clothes.

"No time! I mean it, Edward," I say. My toes search for purchase with the ground as I attempt to stand.

"Something to look forward to then," Edward decides. He closes his eyes, allowing me to kiss each of his eyelids before I move away to sort out the clothes situation.

"But seriously," he says from behind me as I clean myself up and search for my panties. "Do you even remember what Mike Newton looks like?"

"But seriously," I repeat as I pull my skirt over my hips. It's the most professional thing I own and uncomfortably long, and I hope to make a good impression on the Newtons. "Are we really still talking about Mike?"

"He wanted to kiss you," Edward mumbles morosely.

"Among other things," I mutter under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothin'. Shit. Put your pants on." I throw the jeans, and they whack him directly in the face.

"Bellaaaa," he groans in apparent misery.

"Chill out, Spazward. Mike probably doesn't even remember me."

"You're unforgettable, Isabella."

I pull him out the front door to hide the extent of my answering blush.

We walk into the locally-owned sporting goods store, where I will hopefully work this summer, and see Mike Newton sitting at the cash register. His eyes rake over my body when he glances away from the computer at which he was avidly staring.

Wow, his eyes are, like, really fucking blue. How the shit did I miss that?

"Hi," I say politely, stepping away from a tense and frowning Edward. "I'm here to talk to Mrs. Newton about a job this summer."

"Right," Mike says, springing up from his seat and sprinting around the counter to stand in front of me. Has he even seen Edward yet? I can't tell. "I don't know if you remember, but we met before. I'm Mike."

"I remember," I tell him as I let him shake my hand. "Mostly. I'm Bella. And of course you know Edward."

Mike looks surprised to see my boy, probably glaring away behind me.

"Hey," Mike says awkwardly.

"Hello," Edward replies coolly.

"Anyway," Mike continues, turning back to me. "I'm really glad you're working here this summer. It'll be nice to have some fresh blood."

The fool fucking winks at me, and I barely contain my eye roll. Edward steps closer to me, draping an arm around my shoulders.

"Do you see all the countertops in here?" Edward whispers lewdly in my ear. "Imagine all the use we could put them to."

I blush like crazy and immediately punch him in the pectoral for causing said blush. Asshole. Though I can't help but notice that he's right. There is a lot of counter space.

Mike looks bemused, and we stand there in awkward silence until Mrs. Newton comes up front from the back room.

"Good morning," she chirps. Mrs. Newton is the Mrs. Claus version of her son. How does someone so wide move so fast? "You must be Isabella. I've heard so much about you from the chief. We're happy to have the help this summer."

"Ah… thanks," I reply, a little shocked that Charlie has talked about me so much. But on the plus side, it sounds like I already have the job. "And it's just Bella."

"What?" she asks, blinking in confusion.

"She goes by Bella," Edward clarifies with a charming smile. "And hello, Mrs. Newton. It's good to see you."

"Edward!" She shrieks and fucking hugs him. Hugging is not okay. I remind myself that killing my employer would probably reflect negatively on my job performance. "Look at you! College has done you wonders. What are you doing here?"

"Just dropping off Bella," he says, giving her another smile. I can see her melting in front of me, and I want to punch him again.

"Oh!" she says, clutching her massive bosom in surprise. "And just how do you two know each other?"

"We go to school together in Colorado," Edward explains, putting an arm around my waist. I subtly try to get away from him, but he holds firm. He knows I hate this possessive crap outside the bedroom, and I plan all the places I'm going to punch him when we are next alone. "Small world, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes," she titters, eyes zoning in on his hand on my hip. "So are you two…"

"Yup," he says casually as my face catches fire. "Sure are."

I only let him get away with it because Mike is there. If this is what it takes for him to be less insane about me working at the Newtons', then so be it.

"Well, you just make a lovely couple. I'm so happy for you, Edward!"

They catch up for a few minutes until it's time for Edward to leave. He kisses my temple and promises to pick me up at six that night. He leaves, and already I don't feel right with him gone.

I spend the day re-shelving overpriced shit and learning way too much about wool socks. I only fall off two step stools, so in a way my new job is a success. The suffocation sensation is back, and I wonder if I'll last the summer.

Two weeks into the summer, and I think I can do this. It's routine. It's simple. Sometimes, when Edward isn't around to distract me, or things are slow with the store, or Charlie acts a little too much like my dad, or I don't see the sun for three days, I get claustrophobic. I feel too much, and all I want to do is hightail it back to Boulder.

But I honestly don't think I could survive without Edward. And that alone is why I should leave. When did my life get so complicated?

This particular evening, the sun is shining and Edward is helping me grill. Or at least he claims to be helping. In reality, he's all over me. Hands running over my stomach and grabbing my hips. Lips tormenting my neck and kissing the side of my face.

"That's horribly distracting," I say with a giggle as he presses his thumbs into the little indents next to my hipbones.

"You like my distractions," he says with his lips against my jaw.

I hum my agreement, close the lid of the grill, and turn to wrap my arms around his neck.

"You look particularly beautiful this evening, love," he says, giving me the mother of all panty-dropping grins.

"Don't call me love," I say without much heat.

He kisses each corner of my mouth, and I'm about to get demanding and yank his lips to mine, but someone clears their throat, loudly, behind us. I squeak in surprise and jump away from Edward when I see Charlie at the sliding glass door.

"Hey there, Charlie," I say far too loudly. Is this what this feels like? Getting caught by your dad? Growing up, Renee encouraged such behavior, so this embarrassment is a foreign feeling. "I was thinking that we should eat outside because it's so nice. I'm doing a little surf and turf. I know how you like your meat."

I wish I didn't say that.

"Hello, chief," Edward says, cutting off my ridiculous babbling. "It's good to see you again."

I've spent most of my time in the last two weeks at the Cullens' to avoid this fucking awkward situation. We are already lying to his parents about the status of our relationship, so it makes things easier. I just didn't want to fucking deal with Charlie. But Edward insisted on joining the chief and me for dinner. He promised to behave himself, but my dad just had to fucking come home early.

Lovely.

"Edward," Charlie says brusquely. He retreats abruptly back to the house, and I punch Edward in the arm.

"OW!" he yells, the drama queen. "What was that about?"

"Don't be a baby." I open the grill and stir the veggies. "Now he's going to have questions."

"So we'll answer them. It's not like we were doing something wrong. We're twenty years old." Edward is basically laughing at me, and I don't like it.

Half an hour later, we all sit down on the small back porch flanked by a terrifying amount of green. It is too lush here, and I crave the familiar browns of home. Although, lotion is not a necessity here like it is in Colorado, so that is a big plus.

Conversation is limited, and Charlie eats single-mindedly. All the fish is gone before he communicates in anything other than grunts.

"So, I thought you two were friends," he says, leaning back in his chair and scowling at Edward.

"We are," I say quickly, really not fucking liking where this is going.

"He had his hands all over you." Charlie growls out lowly. Whoa. The protective dad routine is a little weird, and I quell the urge to tell the man that I am more than capable of handling my own shit.

"Yeah…" There is really nothing else to say. Edward looks amused as I turn red.

"So you're dating?" he asks bluntly.

"Yup, sure are." It's Edward's standard answer, and I hope he doesn't believe his own lies.

"Better than that other naked Cullen, I suppose," Charlie mutters.

Edward laughs, and Charlie grins. Things get much better from there, and Charlie even returns from the kitchen with three bottles of beer.

"Figure you kids are pretty damn close to twenty-one," he explains, looking embarrassed. "Just don't tell my deputies."

We laugh and talk and drink. Edward tells Charlie hilarious stories, most of which involve me falling down. Charlie recounts similar tales from my childhood that I don't even remember. I stop at two beers, but Charlie and Edward continue. They are both giggly as it gets dark. I yawn widely.

"Tired, Bella?" Charlie asks.

"Yeah," I admit. "I haven't been sleeping well." I can't glance at Edward because he knows why I can't sleep, and the look on his face will probably make me blush.

"I'm sorry your bed is so old and uncomfortable," Charlie says quietly.

"I've had worse," I joke.

"I'm sure your bed is much more comfortable than months on the Blacks' couch," Edward says with a chuckle.

I nod in agreement before I realize the gravity of what Edward just said.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asks me in confusion.

Oh. Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? Charlie doesn't know anything about Renee abandoning me. And at the time, I didn't even think to call him. But we are close now. I know him. He will not take this well at all.

I'm going to murder Edward Cullen.

"I crashed with the Blacks for awhile," I say, trying to sound casual.

"Why?" Charlie's eyes narrow, and he leans forward as he switches into cop mode.

I shrug, not knowing what else to say.

"Bella, where was Renee?" Charlie demands.

"I don't know," I admit quietly.

I kick Edward in the shin and turn my body to glare at him. He has the decency to look horrified.

"Edward," Charlie says sternly. "I think it's time to call it a night. I really need to talk to my daughter. Alone."

Edward looks at me, and I nod, reassuring him that I'll be okay. After standing, he leans down to kiss my lips. I jerk away and he gets my cheek.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he says quietly.

"You fucking better," I mutter, letting him that he is so totally in the goddamn doghouse.

Edward leaves, and I sit in silence with my dad for a while. Charlie's head is buried in his palms.

I absently wonder how Edward got home. He rode here with me. I hope he called his dad and didn't walk. I'm going to be pissed if he gets eaten by a wolf or something.

"Tell me everything," Charlie says finally, fixing me with his interrogation face.

This is not going to be fun.


	16. All Quiet on the Western Front

**Hello all! About this chapter- it is really fackin' long. Like 10,000 words long. Which, I know some of you like. But, unfortunately, only about a tenth of it is present day. I know, I know. Many of you want more of the now. Stick with me, it's coming. And as a reward for your kindness and your patience, I will post chapter 16 later tonight.**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

December 23, 2010

EPOV

"Need a refill already?" Tia asks as I empty my third glass of wine. I nod as I snag a bottle from the counter and pour myself a fourth, large glass. After greeting my family and a few of my closer friends, I abandon the mingling in favor of spying on Bella and getting plastered. Tia has never seen me like this, and the concern is apparent on her lovely face.

With Tia, I'm good. I don't drink. I don't curse. I don't get angry. Truth be told, I don't feel anything particularly emotional at all. But at this point, the numbness is a welcome relief.

Why can't I love Tia? She is nice. And caring. And would probably love me back. But I don't want Tia. I want Isabella, and it pisses me the fuck off.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger," Tia exclaims as I down half my glass in one gulp. I lose track of Bella. I hope she is not once again laughing with Collin. It seems as though they've spent half the party together, and I want to pound something.

"I'm fine," I tell Tia tersely. I'm usually much nicer to her, and she flinches at my tone.

Finally I spot her again. She appears to be yelling at my big twin. Why does she always have to be so confrontational?

"Edward, what's wrong? Why do you keep glaring at Isabella Marie Swan?" Tia asks, sounding desperate and worried.

"Bella," I reply. "She prefers Bella. I'm the only one that gets to call her Isabella."

"You have a history." It's a statement, not a question. "I've always wondered why you never date. She must have done a real number on you."

I shrug and finish my wine.

There is a commotion near the front door, and I turn to see Jake arrive with his father and new girlfriend, Leah. Sam and Emily follow behind them. Everybody loves Jake, and he's bombarded with greetings. I turn back to the wine as Jake wraps his arms around Bella.

I'm highly jealous of the interaction. Not because they once dated, but because it's so simple for Jake. Bella is Jake's best friend. Bella will always be Jake's friend. I'm jealous of the ease with which Jake forgives Bella. I'm jealous of the security of their relationship. I casually step closer to the pair, listening intently.

"Shit, Bells," Jake exclaims. "You look hot. Ow!" Jake's girlfriend punches him in the arm, and I smile. Leah doesn't put up with Jake's crap. He needs a strong woman to keep him in line. "What the fuck, babe?"

"Why does she get 'hot' while I only got 'nice'? You realize you now have no chance of getting laid tonight," she snaps, glaring at him. I really like Leah. A lot.

"Sorry, babe. You know you are the fuck-all sexiest woman here." He throws an arm around her shoulders and kisses her cheek. She looks somewhat appeased. "Leah, I would like you to meet my very best friend Bella. Bells, this is the little lady."

"Hey," Bella says, with an awkward little wave.

"Ah yes, the infamous Bella," Leah says, crossing her arms as she leans back and seems to appraise Bella. "I've heard way too much about you. So you fucked my man, huh?"

This time, when the jealousy returns, it's the normal kind. I hate that he's seen my love naked. Even if it was over five years ago.

For a moment there is stunned silence, and I worry that Bella is going to slap a bitch, but instead she throws her head back and laughs loudly.

"That's right, Leah," Bella says with a chuckle. "A long, long time ago, we fucked. But it was weird. Like fucking your brother. Let me assure you that we will not be going down that road ever again."

Tia gives me a wide-eyed look, obviously appalled by the crass language and the new facts she is learning about Bella's sexual past. I ignore her and keep eavesdropping.

Leah smirks in return. "Damn fucking right you won't."

"I like you, Leah," Bella says, still smiling. "You're tough enough to kick this idiot's ass."

"Oh God," Jake groans. "The two of you are going to gang up against me, aren't you?"

"Damn right, Jakey," replies Bella. "Get used to it."

Jake grins and glances up, spotting Tia. I'm lurking behind a china cabinet, out of sight.

"Hey, Tia," Jake says, waving my study buddy over. "Come meet the girlfriend."

Tia glances at me before moving forward a few steps and shaking Leah's extended hand.

Introductions are made as I continue to awkwardly lurk.

"So how do you know everyone?" asks Leah.

"I go to school with Edward," Tia replies. "Alice's twin? Do you know him?"

"We've met. Though I don't know how you can stand him. He's a pissy little thing, isn't he," Leah replies, offending me thoroughly.

Bella giggles into her drink, while Tia gasps in shock.

"That's not true!" Tia defends. At least one of the ladies here has my back. "He's just focused on his studies. He's very serious and doesn't get distracted."

Bella snorts and mumbles something under her breath. I know we are both thinking of all the times Bella managed to successfully distract me from my studies as an undergrad.

"Oh, have you met Bella yet?" Jake asks, playing the host.

"I haven't had the pleasure," Tia replies. "Hello."

"Sup." Bella pops her p, and I can tell she doesn't like Tia. I wonder if she's jealous.

"You've probably heard all about her too, huh?" asks Leah with a chuckle to Tia.

"No, actually. I haven't heard your name until tonight," Tia replies coolly.

There is an awkward moment of silence, and I know at some point I'm going to have to reveal myself. Then things will get even more awkward.

"Bella and Edward were pretty much inseparable in college," Jake explains. Tia is smart. I'm sure she has figured out that Bella is the girl that broke my heart before grad school.

"Oh, I understand. Edward and I are the same way now," Tia says. I blink in surprise before deciding that she doesn't know what she's saying. Tia is almost as socially inept as I am.

"Oh really?" Bella asks. I can tell by her voice that the punching face is on.

"Yes. We are together all the time studying. Grad school is hard. It's good to have someone reliable to work with."

Bella snorts and Jake steps in, trying to save the day. I'm sure he recognizes the punching face. And the punching voice. "If you spend that much time with Edward," he comments, "I'm surprised he hasn't mentioned Bella."

"There's nothing to say, Jacob," I interject, deciding this is as good a moment as any to reveal myself. Everyone in the group looks surprised but Tia and Bella, both who seem to have known I was there the whole time.

"Aw, thanks, babe," Bella snips sardonically. "It's good to see you too."

I scowl at her as Jake embraces me warmly. "Hey, you left me without any feelings of regret. Why are you surprised I moved on just as quickly?" I ask. It's the wine talking. Normally I wouldn't bring this up in front of company. Especially not Tia. No one needs front row seats to our drama.

"Don't you tell me how I felt, cocksucker," Bella snaps, jabbing a finger at me and thoroughly shocking Tia with her ever colorful language. The two women are ridiculously different. Complete opposites. I've never heard a curse leave Tia's lips. Cocksucker is Bella's most used word. "You have no idea because you won't motherfucking talk to me."

"Like I said," I reply, pouring another glass of wine. I lose track of how many I've had. "There is nothing left to say. I'm over it."

I hear Jake snort this time beside me, and I elbow him in the ribs.

"Good thing you found Tia here right away, to ease your pathetic little broken heart," Bella retorts. I know we are making everyone uncomfortable, but I can't stop.

"At least she was there, Bella."

"God, I left you. It was a shit thing to do. I'm more sorry about it than I am of anything in my entire life. It's my biggest regret. And I missed you like crazy, but you're the one that won't talk to me and insists on punishing me. When are you gonna let it go?" she groans.

"I have let it go," I snap back. "I'm over it, remember?"

"Right. I totally believe you."

"You sound like a child."

"Bite me, dick breath."

"Been there, done that. Again, I'm over it." My lying is blatant. Despite my assertions, the atmosphere is sexually charged as we face off.

"That's not what you were saying the other night," she replies with a grin.

Jake wolf whistles. Leah laughs. Tia gasps. I glare.

Damn it. She's won this round.

We glare at each other intensely, and I down the rest of my wine as the group falls into awkward silence. Leah looks amused while Jake looks resigned and Tia looks horrified. I really should have given her some heads up about Bella, but I didn't even think about it.

Emmett appears with a tray of shot glasses and a bottle of Jack. "Christmas shots?" he asks. I wonder where he found the Santa hat perched lopsidedly on his large head.

I take two and think about seducing Tia tonight, just to prove to Bella that I can.

"What are you doing, Edward?" Bella asks, her voice soft for the first time tonight.

"Indulging," I slur as I pour another glass of wine. The rest of the group is listening avidly, but I ignore them. As I get drunker, it's harder to stay mad at Bella.

"This is like a fucking soap opera," Leah whispers to Jake loud enough for everyone to hear. "We need to hang out with these freaks more often."

"Baby," Bella says sadly, ignoring those around us as well. I really want to touch her and find myself stepping around Tia to be closer. "This is called over indulging. Believe me. I'm a pro."

"I know," I say with a frown. "I always cleaned up your messes, remember? So I'm the pro at dealing with drunk Bella, which either means you are moping or horny. I like horny better."

She chuckles. "I'm trying to change, sweetheart. That person is mostly gone now."

It's impossible to stay mad at her. Because for all the bad times, there are at least four hundred good memories. I forget about Tia and Jake. The party ceases to exist. It's only Bella. It's always been only Bella. I know that I'll need to talk to her eventually, but I'm scared of what I'll hear.

"I missed you," I confess, somehow only inches from her face. She gazes up at me with misery-clouded eyes.

Bella makes the first contact, pushing her hand through the hair at my temple. "I know, baby. Believe me, I know."

"What are we going to do?" I ask as Jake starts up a stilted conversation with Tia in an attempt to give us some privacy. The room is crowded with bodies, and it's hard for them to move away. I think they continue to listen, but I don't care. I'm firmly in la la land with Bella. She is all I see.

"I don't know. You won't talk to me," she says, tracing a thumb over my cheekbone. I close my eyes and breathe her in.

"I'm scared of what you'll tell me," I reply. "You fucked him. Him of all people."

Bella lets out a little whimper, and I open my eyes. I don't like how sad she looks.

"I wish I didn't," she says, her hands falling down my chest until my free hand is clutched in both of hers. "I wish I could change it, but I can't."

"Did he…" I can barely even think the thoughts, let alone vocalize them. "Did he force you…"

"No, Edward." I'm glad I don't have to finish saying the terrible words. "It was my own choice. Not a very good choice, but I made it."

I'm glad she didn't go through that, even if it means she slept with him willingly.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday," I say.

"I'm sorry I gave you a reason to yell," she replies. I have to touch her, so I rest a hand on her hip. Her whole body seems to relax at my side.

"Are they always like this?" I hear Leah whisper to Jake. "I can't keep up."

Welcome to my world, Leah.

"I still don't know what I want," I mutter.

"I understand, sweetheart. Just know that I know that I want you. More than any fucking thing in the whole goddamn world."

Her words are nice, even if I don't believe them. Maybe someday I will. We stare at each other for a while, content in our silence. I don't like fighting with Bella, and although we haven't resolved anything, I feel like we have made up.

"BELLA." Alice is beckoning to my love from the kitchen. "I need your help. Now please!"

"Don't go anywhere," Bella says, giving me a chaste kiss before moving towards my twin. I can't help but smile dopily after her. I just love her… so much.

"Does she own the truck?" Tia asks quietly, drawing my gaze away from Bella. The Christmas party rages on around us, and Bella weaves her way through the crowd to get to my sister. It's disturbingly difficult to focus on my friend, but somehow I muster a nod.

"Are you getting back together?" she continues sadly.

I shake my head vehemently and then look back at Bella's retreating form and shrug.

"How could you not tell me?" she demands.

"I did," I defend. "Sort of. That night we kissed? Remember?"

"I remember every detail of that night," she answers. "You said it was a nasty breakup. I didn't know she was still in your life. The way you talk, it sounds like you never broke up at all!"

"Well, we never officially talked about breaking up. But we were never officially together. She just left. On New Years, two years ago, she just took off. I hadn't heard from her since, until she showed up at Jake's a couple nights ago."

"I can't even believe this," Tia hisses. I don't understand her apparent anger. "It's like you're this completely different person! Like I don't know anything about you."

"What? How?" I ask, tii drunk to deal with this situation properly.

"I've told you everything, Edward! You know that I've never really had a boyfriend and that my crazy parents want to arrange my marriage. There is this huge part of your life you kept from me!" she yells. I've never seen Tia this distressed, and it's all my fault.

"Tia," I say, pleading with her to calm down. I'm just pissing everyone off tonight. "That's not it! Bella wasn't part of my life when I met you. I'd been single for six months, and when I started grad school, I needed to be a different person. I didn't talk about her with anyone. It hurt too much."

I'm thankful my earlier ideas to seduce Tia to make Bella jealous don't come to fruition. I would truly hate myself if I ever used Tia like that. Despite her now obvious feelings for me, I know I never did anything to lead Tia on. I've always just been her friend.

"I know you were always strangely silent about girls," Tia murmurs. "But I suppose I just assumed that it was because you are like me. I thought you were a twenty-three-year-old virgin freak like me! I mean you are so socially awkward. You don't exactly exude sexual confidence despite how gorgeous you are. I feel duped."

"Tia—" I don't know what to say to appease her. Especially about the sex part. There's no denying that I'm a fucking stallion.

"I'm just so stupid! I thought you were as inexperienced as me, but you're… worldly."

"I don't know if worldly is the right word—"

"You've had sex!" she squeaks.

"Um. Yes. I have indeed done that. Many times. Why did you think I've never had sex?" I ask, suddenly offended.

"You're going to have to answer some questions now, Edward Cullen," she says with authority, and I nod immediately.

"When did you meet and how long were you together?"

"Well, that question is more complicated than it seems," I reply, slurring slightly and wishing Tia would take pity on me and save this conversation for later. She just looks at me, and I continue. "We met at the beginning of freshman year, but we were just friends at first. Sort of. I mean, I was in love with her from the get go, but she was having none of that."

"That sounds familiar," she mutters.

"Pardon?"

"Keep going," she encourages.

"We hooked up at the end of freshman year."

"Like, did it?" Tia asks, blushing.

"Yes, Tia. We did it."

"And you dated throughout college?"

"Well…ah…no. Bella has some demons, so for a while we were just fuck…friends with benefits. She would never admit to actually being in a relationship with me, but we didn't see anyone else for three years."

"You had a sex buddy?" Tia asks.

"It was slightly more than that for me," I state. "And then she left."

"Why?"

"It's complicated. I don't really totally understand myself."

"And she wants you back?" Tia asks, looking distressed.

"So she says. Bella never really knows what she wants," I explain with a sigh.

"She sounds like she's a bit of a B-I-T-C-H."

I sigh heavily but don't deny Tia's claims.

"You love her," Tia observes.

"Yes."

"But you don't trust her enough to get back together with her."

"Yes."

"And you've been in love with her before you even met me?"

"Yes."

"And you've loved her the whole time you've known me?"

"Yes."

"God, I'm such an idiot," she says, burying her face in her hands and sounding horrified.

"What? Tia? No, you are a freaking genius!" I say. I'm making Tia sad, and I don't like it.

"I know you said I could crash on your couch, but I had these big plans to confess my love for you and seduce you tonight. I had it all planned out in my head. I figured you were long over your ex by now. You never mentioned her…"

"Tia," I say in a panic, awkwardly patting her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to lead you on. I didn't lie to you when I told you I wasn't looking for a relationship."

"I know. This is all my fault. You just see me as a friend, and I let my imagination run wild."

"You really are one of my best friends," I say, hoping to make her feel better.

She laughs humorlessly, shaking her head. "Friends. Best friends. Just what every girl wants to hear."

"Tia—"

"I just need a moment," she says, moving through the crowd away from me. I sigh again and pinch my nose. All this drama is exhausting.

May 21, 2006

"You've been dating all year, and we've only met her a handful of times!" my mother yells the day after I inadvertently told Charlie about the abandonment of Bella. I haven't heard from her all day, so I sit on my couch and read, checking the phone every two seconds.

"That's not true, Mom," I say with a sigh. "She was here almost every day of Thanksgiving break freshman year and then again when you visited Colorado last spring break."

"Still, I feel like I don't even know her. She's so sullen."

"She isn't sullen," I defend, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"And she never talks. And she dresses so strangely. And she seems so… sad," Esme says, staring at me like she is trying to figure out what Bella sees in me. Or maybe, what I see in Bella.

"She's had a tough life, Mom," I say with another sigh. "And I am even more quiet than her around people I don't really know."

"I just worry about you, sweetie," Esme says, sitting on the couch next to me. "The way you talk about her… and you've never really had a girlfriend before."

"Mom…" I whine, really not wanting to get into this. It might all be moot anyway. Bella will probably refuse to see me again after what I said to her father the night before.

"You're my little boy," she continues. "And you just look at her so… intensely."

"I like her," I admit. "A lot."

"I know you do, sweetie. That's why I want to invite her to dinner tonight."

"Mom—"

"Don't argue with your mother," she says, kissing my forehead, rising from the couch, and tossing my phone in my lap. "Just do it."

"I can't fucking believe you convinced me to do this," Bella hisses through a clenched jaw as I usher her towards my dining room that evening.

"She insisted. I couldn't say no. She's my mother!" I whisper right back, not wanting my parents to overhear our argument.

"I should have fucking said no," she says, seething. "You know I hate shit like this. I feel like your mom can read every perverted thought in my head."

"Like what?" I ask, grabbing her elbow and keeping her in the hall. I must know all the pervy things she thinks.

"You know. Memories of stuff we've done. Stuff I want to do in the future. Parts of your anatomy that drive me crazy with desire. The usual," she says, still glaring at me.

"All your perverted thoughts are about me?" I ask, shocked to hear we have this in common, too.

"Obviously. Who the fuck are you thinkin' about?" she demands, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No one," I reply quickly. She punches me in the arm. "Ow! Damn. I meant you, obviously. But no one besides you."

"Whatever," she says, rolling her eyes. "The point is, you moron, your mom hates me because she knows that I've corrupted her innocent, genius son!"

"You're being paranoid," I say, grabbing her hand. "And I resent being called innocent."

"Do you remember the library B.J.? Do you remember the squeaking? Do you remember coming in about four seconds?" she asks, letting me drag her towards the sounds of my parents in the other room.

"I have no memory of that of which you speak," I tell her before kissing her quickly.

"And don't you motherfucking think for one motherfucking second that I've forgiven you for your idiocy, you cocksucker. After this dinner from hell is over, I fully intend to punish you."

The idea is simultaneously hot and ominous.

"I really do feel terrible about that, love," I murmur with a wince.

"Save it, cocksucker, and don't fucking call me love," she says under her breath before pulling away from me to greet my parents. "Hello, Mrs. Cullen, Mr. Cullen. It's good to see you again."

"Hello, Bella," Esme says, pulling a lasagna out of the oven. "You're just in time. And please, call me Esme."

"And call me Carlisle."

"Okay," she says, looking uncomfortable. It always shocks me, how nervous Bella gets around my parents. It's seemingly out of character for strong-willed Isabella. But she is making an effort. She obviously dressed carefully, avoiding her standard plaid and tie-dye in favor of a white v-neck and grey cardigan sweater, a jean skirt, and a brown belt with a large belt buckle. Her hair is down, and she tucks a strand behind her ear.

"So, Bella," my dad says after the four of us settle around the dining room table. "How's working with the Newtons?"

"Oh, it's fine," Bella says quietly. "The work's a little dull, but all the customers are really friendly."

"The Newtons are nice people," says Esme. "Even if Sarah is a little gossipy and has a crush on my youngest son."

"Yeah, what the hell is up with that?" Bella asks, sounding like herself for the first time in front of my parents. She looks like she immediately regrets her words and flushes.

Both my parents chuckle, and my mother gives me a look, indicating her approval of Bella's statement.

"It's totally inappropriate," Esme says.

"Agreed," says Bella into her lasagna with a slight smile.

"Well Mike Newton has a crush on you, Isabella," I point out. "So we're even."

Bella just rolls her eyes and continues to eat.

Dinner is pleasant. Bella makes my dad laugh and discusses literature with my mother. I smile throughout the meal, observing Bella as she bonds with my parents. I know she doesn't want be here. She doesn't want to talk to my parents. But she's doing it and actually seems to be enjoying it. For me.

And still she says I'm not her boyfriend.

The girl is obviously in denial. And I don't push her. As long as nothing changes between Bella and me, I'm content to let her stay in self-imposed dark. I'm happy with the way things are, and so is Bella.

After dinner, Dad shows Bella his record collection while I help Mom with the dishes. She rinses while I load the dishwasher.

"I still don't feel like I really know Bella," Esme says quietly, elbows deep in soapsuds. "But she really is lovely, Edward."

"That she is," I say, glancing into the other room where her brow is furrowed in concentration as she studies an album my dad hands her.

"I feel like she needs help," Esme murmurs.

"You've always been very intuitive about people, Mom."

"Just like my son," she says with a smile. "And although I have my reservations about your girlfriend, I trust you. If you say she's a good person, if she makes you happy, I have nothing to complain about."

"She makes me very happy," I reply.

"Good."

"Your dad is actually kinda awesome," Bella says when I finally get her away from Carlisle, and we are alone in my bedroom. "Esme scares the shit out of me, but I must say, if your dad was a little younger and a little singler—"

"Are you serious?" I say in horror as Bella starts poking around my bookshelf. "That's disgusting, Bella."

"Lighten up, Adonis," she says with a chuckle. "I was just yankin' your chain."

"Funny." She was so totally not joking.

"I don't know what your bitchin' 'bout. You may have distracted me with damn good food and your gorgeous father and your terrifying mother, but I'm fucking pissed the fuck off at you, you motherfucking, cocksucking, secret-blabbing motherfucker."

I sit down on the end of my bed with wide eyes as she finishes her rant. It's totally valid. She looks livid and wild. Also ridiculously sexy, but I really shouldn't focus on that.

"You're right. I'm an idiot. I'm so incredibly sorry, Isabella." I rest my elbows on my thighs and cover my face with my hands. I'm smart. I'm used to feeling intelligent. My stupid little joke last night makes me feel like an imbecile, and that's a foreign feeling for me.

"What in the flying fuck were you thinking?" she screams, pacing in front of me. All I can do is sit there and follow her with my eyes. "I haven't fucking slept at all, and just keep repeating everything my father said in my head on a fucking loop."

"Wait. What did he say?" I ask, my concern mounting by the second as Bella seems to unravel before me. She doesn't even acknowledge that she heard me speak.

"He changed everything I ever held true about my relationship with him, my relationship with Renee. I'm just…buried under a pile of what-ifs. I can't… I just… " She's as close to crying as I've ever seen her, and I want to touch her. "I told you all that shit about Renee and living with the Blacks in confidence, you motherfucker!" she yells, turning on me suddenly. She stops her pacing and glares down at me.

"I know, I know." I just sit on the end of my bed, hands fisted in my hair. "It just slipped out. I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry, Bella."

"It's just… Shit! I didn't want to have to deal with that, Edward! I hate talking about that, flaunting the proof of my unlovableness. And then Charlie… He said things." Bella trails off, seemingly running out of steam, and plops down in my desk chair. She pulls her legs up to hug them against her chest.

"What did Charlie say, Bella?" I ask.

She shakes my head and looks unbearably lost.

"Just…stuff," she tells me, somewhat lamely.

"Come here," I say, beckoning her to join me with a hand. I pray that she doesn't reject my comfort. I want her to let me be there for her.

She shakes her head vehemently.

"Isabella," I plead, unable to keep the slight whine out of my voice.

She glances up at me and shakes her head again, more slowlr this time.

I sigh heavily and stand, walking over to my dark angel. She lets me pull her out of the chair and into my lap after I sit on the bed. It feels good to have her close to me. I like to think that I'm comforting her, because she sighs and relaxes into me

"You make the demons go away, just for a little while," she murmurs against my chest.

"What was that, love?" I ask, not sure I'm hearing her right.

"Nothin'."

"I'm so sorry," I whisper into her hair. Her breath is warm on my neck, and she squeezes me tighter. "I never meant to cause you any issues with your dad. Do you want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head furiously for a second, before collapsing back against my shoulder with a huff of frustration. "I don't know," she murmurs.

"Okay."

"You're so understanding. How do you do that? When you don't want to talk about something with me – which is a big time rarity and usually only happens because you are enthralled with something sciencey – I pretty much annoy the shit out of you until you crack. You're patient and kind. I'm intolerant and cranky."

"Bella," I ask, trying not to freak out at her babblings. "Do you even realize you are saying everything you're saying right now?"

"Shit. I said all that out loud?" she asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Tell me what happened after I left last night," I ask softly.

"He said that he tried to get custody. Of me. When Renee first took me. But with his job and everything, the court wouldn't… Anyway, she wouldn't let me see him when I was a little kid. That's why we moved so much, Charlie thinks. Because he was always looking for me. And then when Renee finally let him see me after we moved to Boulder, and he saw me there, and he said I just seemed so…settled."

"That makes sense," I reply, rubbing circles on her knee with my thumb. "He didn't want to uproot you from your life there. Your childhood."

"Yes," she agrees, nuzzling even further into my neck. "He said something similar to that."

"I told you he loves you," I say in hushed tones, causing her whole body to tense.

"Apparently, he even offered to move to Boulder. To be near me. God, I can't even really say it. Everything seems so unreal."

"Keep going," I encourage.

"Renee told him that she would leave with me before he got there, if he moved to Boulder," Bella murmurs. "God, can you believe that? Every time I think I know Renee and am willing to except the shitty person she is, something like this happens to knock me on my ass again."

"I'm so sorry," I murmur, kissing her temple. "You deserve so much better than the mom you have."

"Naw, this is exactly right," she says, pulling away from my embrace and sitting next to me on the bed. "Bad things happen to bad people."

"Bella, you're not—"

"And if Charlie was around when I was growing up, he would have learned that I'm unlovable too," she says.

"Enough," I snap, tired of this self-deprecating thing she has going on. I just want to shake her until she sees herself the way I see her. "You are not fucking unlovable."

"Whatever," she dismisses, obviously not wanting to argue with me any longer.

"I mean it, Isabella," I say, still angry with her. "I know for a fact that you are far from unlovable, because I love you." Her face snaps to mine and her mouth falls open in shock. "I'm in love with you. Have been since you drunkenly stumbled into my dorm room freshman year. "

She repetitively opens and closes her mouth and scoots as far away from me as possible while staying on the bed, pushing herself into the headboard.

"No, you aren't," she says quietly, studying her hands in her lap.

"Don't tell me how I feel," I say sternly.

"You aren't fucking in love with me, Cullen," she says, her voice rising. "We're just fucking."

"Will you cut the Cullen crap? And the 'we're just fucking' horseshit?" I'm the one pacing and yelling now.

"You're confused," she insists with eerie calm. "You might think you love me, but you don't really know me. No one does. I'm a bad person. I don't feel anything. I only care about myself. So you might think you love me now, but eventually all your little delusions will disappear and you'll realize you were wrong all along. And then you'll leave, because that's what happens. Everybody leaves."

My heart breaks for the poor, lost girl sitting on the bed, calmly telling me that loving her is impossible. My dark angel. My love.

"Isabella," I say, kneeling in front of her and cradling her face between my palms. "No offensive, love, but you're the delusional one. You are good, and I love you. I'm in love with you."

"No, no. That's not… you can't—"

Abruptly, I kiss her, just because I don't like the words coming out of her mouth. She responds immediately, her hands fisting in my hair and legs wrapping around my waist. I lay her back on the bed and tear at her clothes, somewhat violently. She's equally desperate. For once, I crave the mindlessness and the distraction as much as she does. I don't want to think about the impossible things that came out her mouth moments before. I can't force her to change her self-perception, but I won't stop trying.

Removing my mouth from hers only to strip off her t-shirt and my own, I pour everything I feel about her into the kiss. My love. My frustration. I kiss us both into oblivion, and I am not totally sure how long it lasts or how we end up naked.

"Edward," she moans, thrashing below me. "Please. Please, now. I need you now!"

I reach between our bodies, thrilled to discover she is beyond ready for me. With one deep thrust, I enter her, but I stop when I fill her to the hilt.

Bella throws her head back and whimpers, trying to coax me to move with her hands on my hips.

"Bella, love," I say in a strained, husky voice as I stroke her cheeks with my fingertips. "Open your eyes. Look at me."

Her eyes fly open, and I just stare into them for a moment before I start to move, slow and deep. Bella locks her ankles behind my back and pushes her hands into my hair again.

"Oh…" she moans, her eyes rolling back in her head as our pace becomes more frantic and our breathing more labored.

"Stay with me," I demand as we both come close to climax. "I want to see you…keep…fuck…keep your eyes open."

She does as I request, her chest heaving with her breath.

"Edward," she moans, meeting me frenzied thrust for frenzied thrust.

"I love you," I groan out before kissing her again. "God, Bella, I love you."

She lasts only a few seconds longer. Her eyes never leave mine as I quickly follow.

I lean with my elbows on either side of her head, still unable to look away or even move. I wish I could interpret her wide-eyed expression. Part of me is terrified that she is on the verge of tears, but then she reaches up to kiss me. It's a blend of desperation and tenderness.

A moment later, I roll off her. I beam when she immediately curls herself into my side. It's a little proof that I'm not alone in this crazy need.

"I love you," I murmur into her hair. She clings to me, and I smooth down her hair. "I love you. I'm going to keep saying it till you believe me."

"You're going to be sayin' it for a long time," she whispers, closing her eyes. She doesn't even let me go when I sit up to pull the covers over our naked bodies.

"I can do that," I reply as her eyes flutter closed.

Bella sneaks out at the crack of dawn to both avoid my parents and to make it to work on time. I wake briefly as she kisses my eyelids.

"Hey, go back to sleep," she whispers, rearranging the comforter around my shoulders. "I have to get to work."

"'Kay," I mumble into my pillow, rolling onto my belly. Bella's body has warmed the sheets, and I drift back to sleep as her scent surrounds me.

"See you tonight," she murmurs, placing a final kiss on my shoulder blade.

I don't hear from her at all for the rest of the day. This is unusual for Bella and me. Typically when we are apart, we share random, amusing tidbits with each other. Text each other little updates. And although I text her throughout the day, I hear nothing back.

At first, I assume that things must be busy at the store. But when the clock strikes five, and there's still no word from Bella, I get really concerned. Something's not right. She's off work. I should have heard from her by now.

I wait until 5:50 before I call her.

"Hi, sweetheart," she says, answering her phone immediately.

"Hey," I say, breathing out a sigh of relief at the sound of her voice. "What's up? So I was thinking I could swing by, pick you up, take you to dinner. There's this diner that's pretty decent. They have good hamburgers, and I know how you like your—"

"Edward," she interrupts. She sounds exhausted, and I don't totally understand. I made sure she slept well last night. "I can't go out to dinner with you."

"Okay…" I say, getting a little panicky, but I'm not sure why. "How about later, then? I could come over, sneak in through your bedroom window. I'm getting pretty good at it, I like to think."

"Edward," she says cautiously. "If you crawl into Charlie's house tonight, you will be very disappointed in what you find."

"And what's that?" I ask with equal caution.

"Because I won't be there," she says in a rush.

"And where exactly will you be?" I ask, still not getting whatever she is trying to tell me.

"Um…" In the background I hear over hear announcements and the sound of many people crowded together.

"Where are you now?" I ask.

"An airport?" The answer comes out as a question.

"What airport?"

"Sea-Tac," she replies cautiously.

"Why are you in Seattle?" I demand, my stomach dropping.

"Well, I am currently waiting for my flight to board."

"Your flight to where?"

"Home, Edward. I have to go home," she says quietly.

I can't reply because I don't have any words.

"I know you probably aren't going to be happy with me. You probably feel like I abandoned you, but I just… I can't really describe it, but I was suffocating. With my dad talking to me and you saying things to me and the sun not shining…" She's blabbering and wants me to interrupt her, but I can't because I have no words.

"I have to go home, baby," she whines, maybe pleading with me to understand, maybe begging for forgiveness.

"Don't call me," I say before abruptly hanging up on my dark angel.

Ignoring the worried protests of my parents, I walk past them and don't stop until I crawl under my covers. All I can think about is how desperately Bella is trying to prove her "unloveableness". For the first time, she's actually doing a good job.


	17. Mommy Issues

**Alrighty. This chappie is a little odd. It's got multiple POV's so we're moving out of the standard pattern. **

December 23, 2010

BPOV

Alice has an ice crisis, and I help her bring up more bags from the man cave. I'm not pleased that she dragged me away from my conversation with Drunkward, but it's impossible to say no to my favorite pixie. Somehow, Jasper and Emmett both seem to disappear the moment Alice needs anything, and Edward is so drunk he's useless, so I make a convenient stand-in. I quickly make my way back to Edward. He and Tia seem to be hashing out some pretty serious stuff, so I leave them be.

I'm ashamed to say that I pissed all over him like he's my motherfucking tree. Metaphorically, of course. I probably shouldn't have announced that we fucked like two days ago, but I feel so possessive over him. Tia is obviously in love with him, yet he is equally as obviously oblivious so that makes me feel secure enough to leave them to it.

I walk around the house, finally stopping to catch up with Kate and Garrett. My last conversation with Kate doesn't really count because I was very focused on myself. But now I'm friendly and ask questions and all that shit you are supposed to do as a grown-up. They are engaged, planning on getting married in the spring. Kate shows off her ring while Garrett grins with pride. I can't tell if I pity them or envy them. When we run out of things to say, I move away. Unfortunately, I bump into Collin… again. The dude is fucking stalking me, and I don't like it.

"Bella," he says, tugging on my elbow even though I am glaring at him intently. I move a few steps, and he glances up.

I groan when I see that we are standing under the mistletoe. Goddamn Alice.

"Guess you're going to have to kiss me," he says. I can smell the whiskey on his breath as I debate where I'm going to kick him first. Suddenly he stumbles backwards, shoved away from my body.

I turn to see a murderous Edward looming over me.

"What the fuck, bro?" Collin yells.

"That's so not totally going to happen, bro," Edward slurs with disdain. Even though he is visibly wasted, he is threatening. I almost forgot how hot possessive Edward is. He steps in front of me, completely ignoring Collin's protests.

But I really don't want him to do anything stupid, so I pull on his arm, turning him around to face me. He blinks down at me in confusion, obviously still in kick-ass mode. I would prefer lusty mode.

"Mistletoe," I explain, pointing up at the ceiling and pulling him closer with my hands on his hips. He grins at me before lowering his lips to mine. The kiss is immediately heated, and the shivers scorch my body. His fingers wind into my hair, taking control and tilting my head as he kisses me within an inch of my sanity. Despite the activity around us, I'm totally focused on Edward, and I moan into his mouth.

"Merry Christmas, Edward," I murmur as we part to take a breath.

"Merry Christmas, love." My knees go weak as he uses my old nickname. "Let's go upstairs."

I grab his hand, pulling him behind me, fully intending to fuck him all night long. It's probably wrong, because we haven't really talked yet, but I will gratefully take whatever he gives me. Even if it's just physical.

But my dreams are dashed. As we reach the bedroom, Edward makes a gagging sound and dashes past me into the bathroom. I wince as I hear Edward puke his guts out.

I kneel beside him, rubbing circles on his back as he moans with his head hanging in the toilet.

"Go away," he mutters, spitting into the bowl.

"No."

"You don't need to see me like this," he groans before his body heaves again.

"You've done this for me a thousand times," I remind him quietly. "Let me take care of you for once."

He doesn't complain after that. Not even when force I force him to drink water and shove my own toothbrush into his mouth. I wince again, only slightly, as the brush disappears into his vomited-soiled mouth.

"Isabella, Isabella," he murmurs as I drag him to bed. He stands passively as I strip him down to his boxers. "You're taking care of me."

"That I am," I reply as I pull back the covers and force him to lie down. He reaches for me immediately, whimpering when I pull away.

"C'mere," he mutters. I remove my dress and pull on one of his t-shirts before I comply with his demands.

He rolls over, laying his head on my shoulder as my arms come around his back. "You're so confusing," he slurs as he drifts off to sleep. "When you do stuff like this, I think you love me."

"You're a smart guy, sweetheart," I answer, kissing his temple tenderly. "And you're usually right."

* * *

September 20, 2006

A month into junior year, I'm still a zombie. Edward still is barely speaking to me. I can't explain why I had to leave Forks, and him, this summer. I can't explain why I didn't call him, didn't talk to him about it. I can't even explain to myself the absolute asphyxiating sensation that closed in on me when Charlie told me he loved me and about Renee's further lies.

And then when Edward confessed his supposed feelings for me as well, I was fucking done for.

I tried to talk to my mother about Charlie's claims that he tried to see me, but she was her typically avoiding self. She made excuses that I didn't totally believe, but it all just hurts too much, so I try not to think about it.

But it's impossible not to miss Edward.

I still spend time at the Goss house, hanging out with Alice and Rosalie, but Edward makes himself scarce. His murmured, polite hellos hurt more in their unfamiliarity than him ignoring me completely.

I don't plead for his forgiveness, even though I want to. I don't explain or try to get back into his bed. He is better off without me, especially if he thinks he loves me. His words of love show that he doesn't really know me. Maybe he understands now that I left with no warning.

But it's hard. I haven't been with anyone since Edward. I've taken to drinking and smoking alone, avoiding everyone but Jake and Alice because she forces me to be social with her.

I'm working on accepting that after a year, my fuck buddy arrangement with Edward is over, but I'm not particularly happy about it.

Since school started, I've been busy with RA duties and class. I've even picked up extra hours at Billy's to keep myself occupied.

I don't think anyone really notices a difference. When I'm around people, I'm the same hard-assed, strange, foul-mouthed Isabella Swan. The marked change is on the inside. Surviving is even harder than it was after Renee left, but I try not to dwell on the reasons for this.

Time passes. People move on. Edward doesn't even come to the library this semester.

But I'm okay. Life is good. I turned twenty-one a week ago and can now legally buy alcohol. This landmark birthday would have been more exciting if I hadn't been doing it illegally for years.

Also, I was forced to celebrate with Renee and Phil. They gave me a long, silver locket. In one side is a picture of Renee and me, when I was about six. My mom was still my best friend then, and though everything is different now, I hope we will get back there. Only time will tell.

A week after my birthday, the weather is warm and the sun is out, so Jake and I get sandwiches from HalfFast on The Hill. I get grilled eggplant with onions, Jake gets something with four kinds of meat. We take our meal to Farrand Field and eat as we sit in the shade of a tree.

"Do you want to smoke up?" Jake asks as he finishes his seven-inch sub.

"Are you crazy?" I ask, punching him the in the shoulder. "We are in the middle of campus! I see some of my residents! When are you going to remember that I'm a fucking RA? Shit, Jake."

"Sorry, sorry," he replies, putting both palms up in surrender. "I'm a moron. Do you care if I smoke?"

I just glare, and he puts away his Smokey the Bear tin (funny, I know) that contains his various smoking paraphernalia. I offer him a cigarette and he shakes his head, but he flips open his zippo, striking a flame for me. I breathe it in deep, sighing in contentment as I blow out a thick cloud of smoke.

"How are you, Isa-Belly?" he asks, sounding far too serious.

"You know," I say, taking another draw of my American Spirit. "If I was a fatty, that would be really offensive."

"But you aren't," he points out as he stretches back on the grass with his hands behind his head. "If anything, you are too skinny. And you smoke too much."

I snort. "Jacob, you can't really talk about smoking too much, now can you?"

"Just weed. Not cigarettes. Nasty."

"Please spare me the lecture. Chemicals are bad for you, corporate greed, yada, yada, yada. Don't make you tell me for the squillionth time that they don't put that shit in American Spirits."

He laughs, reaching out to tickle my sides. I squeal and laugh before eventually settling against him with my head on his shoulder. I close my eyes, pretending his heat is actually someone else.

It's all fucking wrong.

He smells wrong. He feels wrong. Plus, it's probably really fucking wrong to pretend he is someone else. He is my best friend, goddamn it. I should always be thankful to be around him.

"I'm glad you're back, Bells," he says quietly, getting serious again.

"From where? Forks? I wasn't even gone a month, if you recall," I say, wincing at the memory.

"No, I mean just back." I prop myself up on my elbow, staring down at him in confusion. "The last couple years… you've been with Cullen, and I just didn't see you all the time like I used to."

'Things change, Jake," I reply. "That wasn't because of Edward. We can't stay kids forever. I have responsibility now. And so do you, with the shop and everything."

"I guess. What ever even happened with you and Cullen anyway?"

"Nothin'," I reply. "We were fuckin', and now we aren't fuckin'."

"Was that it then?" he clarifies. "Just fuckin'?"

"Yup," I say, pleased that I sound so sure. "It really wasn't a big deal."

"But you fucked him for like a year," he points out, looking wary. "You must have liked him."

"'Course I liked him," I say. "He's a funny motherfucker in his own dorky way. Plus, he's shockingly good in bed."

"Better than me?" Why is he always asking me this? I give him a look and he backpedals. "Never mind. I don't want to know. So why aren't you fucking him anymore?"

"He wanted too much," I say with a shrug. Jake nods in understanding. Jake always understands. "Come on, I've got homework. You can play video games while I read Shakespeare."

He agrees, and we walk back to Hallett. We laugh and joke, back to normal after the weirdness that was our Edward conversation. I'm happy.

Until I see my stepfather.

"Phil?" I ask, cautiously approaching the man who sits with his head in his hands on a cement stoop by the entrance to Hallett. His head snaps up, and I see immediately that something is wrong. Phil has no real defining feature, besides his relative youth. His eyes are a lackluster brown, and his hair is the same. He's not bad looking, but his face is a total non-event. But now, his panic is written all over his unremarkable features.

"Bella! Hey, you didn't answer your phone," he says, standing and wringing his hands.

"Yeah, I had it off for class. What's up?"

"Oh, not much. Not much." Phil stands there awkwardly. With his hands in his pockets, he rocks back and forth on the soles on his feet. He obviously doesn't know where to begin. He needs to just fucking spit it out already. He's making me nervous.

"Phil, what are you doing here?" I ask.

"I was just… in the neighborhood… thought I would pop by." I glare at him, and he clears his throat. "I was wondering if you have seen your mother today?"

My stomach drops and I know, without needing any other evidence, that Renee is gone. She's left me. Again.

"No," I say, willing myself to stay strong for Phil.

"We were supposed to meet for lunch, but then she didn't show up. I waited an hour before I went home, but she wasn't there either. She isn't answering her phone. I'm sure it's nothing. It's silly to worry, right?" He chuckles nervously.

I want to agree with him, but I just can't.

"Why don't we go look at home again?" I say, knowing that there will be some sign that Renee has left if I'm right.

Jake and I follow Phil's Beamer up the canyon to the lavish home. When we arrive, Phil pours himself a strong drink while Jake loiters awkwardly in the doorway. I told him not to come, knowing that all this strength will leave me at some point. He doesn't need to see me completely break down. But Jake is Jake, and he insisted.

I get all Sherlock Holmes on everyone's asses and poke around in Renee's drawers. They are unsurprisingly empty, and my hands start to shake. On the bathroom counter, I find a sticky note with red lipsstick pressed on it in the form of a kiss and my mother's slanted handwriting: _I'm sorry._

I hate those words.

In the room that Renee has designated as mine, even though I never actually spent the night there, I find a similar note. Except she has already given me sorry, so this time, it's _Till we meet again_. She doesn't even bother apologizing this time, and I'm glad.

I still hate her, though.

I hate that she's never been a real mother. I hate that she's marked me as unlovable. I hate that she's now left me twice, and I hate that I let her back into my life after the first time.

I really, really hate that I have to be the one to break Phil's heart.

I light a cigarette, wishing I had Jake's Smokey tin on me. I smoke manically, walking down the hall and looking at the pictures there. Some of Renee and Phil. Some with me, though I don't look pleased at all.

Renee's fake life is laid before me in photo form. Her lies make me so fucking angry.

I smoke a total of three cigarettes before I find the courage to walk down the stairs to tell Phil that the woman he loves is never coming back. He is sitting at the breakfast bar, staring at his cell phone and sipping a scotch. I can't find the words, so I gently set the note in front of him on the cool marble countertop.

"What's this?" he asks, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"I found it," I reply, my voice equally croaky. I clear my throat and press on. "On your bathroom counter."

He turns it over, searching for more. I did the same thing the first time, hoping that the note would explain. But the paper holds no more answer for Phil. Or me.

"This was in my room," I say, handing him the second sticky note. "Phil… I have to tell you. This is what she did last time. The first time. With the notes and everything. It's the same."

He nods his head, still looking down at the note.

I'm not sure what to do, so I just stand there for a full five minutes with my hand on my stepfather's shoulder. Eventually, he silently pulls away and walks across the kitchen to retrieve his bottle of scotch. He gets another glass, pouring the liquid into two tumblers and sliding one to me.

There has to be at least four shots in the glass, and I drink it down greedily in two long gulps.

"Phil—" I start, feeling the need to fill the silence.

"Just don't, Bella," he snaps. His voice is harsh, and I try not to be hurt by his tone. I know he is shocked. I remember the feeling. I felt so different than I feel now. Now, I'm numb. "Please, just go. I want to be alone."

I remember for the first time that Phil pays my tuition, and the sick feeling I've had since I saw Phil on campus gets exponentially worse.

It takes about two seconds to find Jake, and the next thing I know, we are back at the house he shares with Embry and Quil. I realize that I'm sitting in an armchair, and the three of them are sitting across from me, staring at me intently, as if I'm going to explode at any minute.

I hate their scrutiny, and I hate the weakness I feel as my hands start to shake again.

Only one person can make the shakes stop. Only one person can make this better.

"Bella? Can you hear me? Are you okay?" Jake says, scooting forward on the couch.

I nod absently, looking around the room for my purse. I have to call him. Right now. I spot it on the coffee table, and I lunge for it, suddenly desperate for a little relief. Everywhere hurts, and my usual distractions won't suffice this time.

I dig through my black leather shoulder bag, searching for my cell. My hands are shaking so badly, my teeth seem to chatter, and I have a difficult time finding anything. I wonder why I keep so much fucking crap on my person at all times and decide I'm going to invest in a smaller bag that will force me to carry less things.

My brain might be completely freaking out.

I finally locate my phone, but I can't seem to scroll to the name I need.

"What are you doing?" Jake asks, instantly at my side. "Calling your mom? I don't think she is going to answer."

"I don't have a fucking mom," I snap. The first words I've spoken since we left Phil's are not very nice at all. "Can you please fucking help me?"

I feel like I'm going to explode with frustration. I feel vile, unworthy. If I were a good person, I would not call who I'm about to call, but I'm selfish and needy and weak. He's going to see that I'm selfish and needy and weak, but I decide I don't care. My desire to see him overrides that. My need to see him overrides everything.

"Who do you want me to call, Bells?" Jake asks me, panicking.

I take three deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling as I try to stop the shaking. It's no use.

"Edward. Please call Edward."

EPOV

"Alice," I say, trying to talk some sense into my sister. "Maybe you should have the strength to except what you cannot change. I don't think you are ever going to be a good cook. You'll poison us all if you serve this."

"I don't need your pessimism fucking with my meal, Edward!" she replies, batting me away. I retreat, sitting at the breakfast bar with a sigh. Teasing Alice momentarily distracts me, but now that the fun is over, I'm back to brooding. I've been perpetually brooding since Bella left me all alone in Washington. It was eye-opening, really. At least now I'm totally positive that my feelings for Bella are completely one-sided. I'm moving on, better off without her drama in my life.

I miss her like fucking crazy.

"Good God, man!" Alice exclaims, catching me brooding. She's been on my case to pep up lately. "You need to get laid."

The thought of being with anyone but Bella has not even crossed my mind and makes me unbelievably sad. But maybe Alice is right. It would mean that I am totally over Bella, wouldn't it?

I realize that thinking about Bella in regard to every decision I make doesn't prove I'm over her at all.

"Maybe," I reply, sounding like a petulant child.

"Want me to set you up with someone?" Alice asks, raising an eyebrow at me. She wears a ridiculous, frilly apron, and the brown goop in the pan smells like rotten cheese.

"Y…yes?" I stammer. She rolls her eyes at me and turns back to her cooking.

"Have you talked to Bella at all? Since you got back to Boulder?" she asks.

"Nope," I reply.

"Have you thought that maybe you should?"

"Nope," I say again.

"Oh, Edward," she sighs. "Why does life have to be so complicated?"

"It's not complicated for you," I say, sounding sulky again.

"How the hell would you know? Just because Jasper and I are very much in love doesn't mean we don't have our issues. Everyone's got problems, baby brother. And our Bella has a whole shit ton of them."

"Can we please talk about something else?" I plead as my cell goes off next to me.

"Answer your phone, you grumpy bugger," Alice demands.

I roll my eyes, pick up my phone, and almost drop it when I see the name illuminating the front.

Isabella.

Holy shit.

"Holy shit," I say.

"What? Who is it?" Alice asks.

"Bella," I reply quietly.

"Well, looks like you will be talking to her after all. Answer it, don't just stare like a moron."

I take a deep breath to center myself before I push the green button to answer.

"Hello?" I brace myself to hear Bella's voice. I'm not ready yet. I'm not strong enough to resist her.

"Uhhhh…" The voice that greets me is deep, male, and distinctly not Bella-ish. Again, I almost drop it in surprise. "Edward?"

"Who the hell is this?" I demand.

"Jake. You know, Jacob Black."

"Right. What do you want?" This conversation is freaking me out.

"Um… Bella asked me to call… I don't really know why though," he says, sounding upset.

"Is she okay? What happened? What's wrong? Is she alright?" I lose my tough guy attitude immediately. My heart drops with worry for the girl I still unwillingly love.

"No. I mean yes. I mean… shit. I think you should come over. I think she wants you to come over." Jake sounds exhausted, and I'm slipping on my sneakers before I even know where I'm going.

"Where is she? Is she hurt?" I ask, unlocking Emmett's jeep as I stride out the front door.

"Physically, she is fine. She's at my place. On The Hill. You've been here before."

"Yeah, I should be there in ten."

We hang up and, true to my word, I park on the street ten minutes later. My heart is pounding as I knock on the door.

"Where is she?" I demand, glaring at Jacob when he answers the door. He looks like he is at a total loss, but I decide he has hurt Bella somehow and burst in his door without invitation.

"Living room," he mumbles. I don't wait for him to lead the way. I basically run down the hall, stopping abruptly when I see Bella sitting in an oversized chair.

My eyes scan her body, searching for a sign of injury. I have no idea what is going on, but the horrible things I think up must be worse than reality.

I look at Bella and think that maybe I'm wrong.

She looks so terribly small, dwarfed by the chair. Her legs are pulled up to her chin, and she hugs them as she rocks slightly. Her hair is up in a messy bun on the top of her head, and she wears red feather earrings. Her eyes are closed at first, but her head snaps up when she hears me approach.

Even though she is obviously hurting, it feels so good to be in the same room as her again.

Her whole body relaxes back into the couch when she sees me. She lets out a quaking breath, and her hands shake. There is absolute devastation in her big brown eyes, and I'm crouching in front of her in a matter of seconds.

"Isabella," I say, grabbing her hands to still her quivers. "What happened, love?"

She just continues to stare, her eyes pleading with me. I just wish I knew what she wants.

I stroke her cheek, and she leans forward, closing her eyes again and resting her forehead on mine. She is scaring me. This lost, vulnerable girl before me is virtually unrecognizable, and my anger evaporates. Or at least transfers to Jacob, who I want to strangle, because somehow I decide this is all his fault.

I kiss her tenderly, just trying to get her out of this terrifying comatose state. She responds, shuffling her body closer to mine, and I feel whole again. I pull away after a moment, completely forgetting our audience, and trace her cheekbone with my thumb.

"Please, Bella," I beg. "What happened?"

"I'm fine," she murmurs, averting her gaze. I tilt her face back towards mine and give her a stern look that implores her to just tell me already. "She left," Bella finally says in a small voice, her head flopping forward to rest against my neck.

I don't need to ask who, and I hug her tightly, all ill will from the summer forgotten. Bella doesn't cry, as I would expect. She just shakes, though it gets better when I attempt to still her movements.

"Oh, Bella," I say. "I'm so sorry she's doing this to you again."

I want to kill Renee. I glance up at Jacob, who is towering over us, and I can see that he agrees. Though I think he might also want to kill me for being the one Bella needs right now.

Love and a need to protect this fragile creature bloom in my chest as Bella clings to me. I know she is probably bad for me. I know that I shouldn't be with her if she can't love me back. But I'm beyond caring. I've been miserable without her, and she very obviously wants me too.

She feels so slight against my chest, and I worry that she's lost weight. Glaring at Jake again, I feel her ribs between my fingers. He should have been taking better care of my girl. He shrugs his shoulders and glares right back, though through his anger I can see his sadness. He genuinely cares for Bella, might even be in love with her, and it must really fucking suck to see her need another. Especially someone as strong as Bella.

The joy I would normally experience at being there for Bella is gone, though, because she is suffering. I'm helpless to do anything but hold her.

So I do. For at least half an hour, until Bella stirs.

"Edward?" she whispers from where her head is buried in my shoulder.

"Yes, love?" I reply.

"Will you take me home now?" she asks in that small, vulnerable voice that is such a contrast to her normal, vibrant self.

She's referring to the house on Goss, not her sterile, impersonal dorm room.

"Of course, love." I stand, shaking out my calves that have fallen asleep from being crouched in the same position for so long. I tuck her under my arm as she unsteadily gets to her feet. Jake hands me her purse and walks us to Emmett's Jeep. Bella settles in the front seat, and I move around to the driver's side, but Jake stops me as I reach for the handle.

"She likes tea when she's upset," he says. He looks tired and heartbroken.

"I know," I murmur, feeling uncomfortable.

"Also, rub her back. She falls asleep easier."

I know this too, but saying so seems cruel, so I just nod.

"She probably needs comfortable shit to sleep in," Jake says in a rush, his voice once again stopping me from entering the car. "I could go grab some sweat pants."

"She has stuff at my house," I dismiss.

"Why the fuck would she have stuff at your house?" he demands.

I don't know how to reply. Bella has obviously kept him in the dark regarding many aspects of our relationship. Or former relationship. Or whatever.

And in reality, we should have done the exchanging of stuff as soon as I got back from Forks, but it never happened. It's like we just put our relationship on pause, and neither of us pushed to officially end it. Her toothbrush still sits next to mine. She still has PJs and underwear in her designated drawer and jeans in her section of the closet. I've just been ignoring their existence until now.

"Why do you think?" I ask, annoyed that he is keeping me from Bella. I move to open my door, but his voice stops me. A-freaking-gain.

"Wait!" he yells. "Just… shit. I guess you and Bells are a lot more serious than she let on, huh?"

I shrug, being as I have no idea how serious Bella and I are. Or were. Or whatever.

"She's not as strong and independent as she wants everyone to think, you know," he says, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

I glance back into the car, where Bella is sitting with her eyes closed. She takes deep, slow breaths as if her focus on her breathing is all that is keeping her from completely losing it.

"I care about her, Jacob," I say quietly. "A lot. I'm not going to hurt her."

"Sure, sure," he replies. "Call me if she needs anything."

I nod again and quickly get in the car before he can stop me.

All the roommates are gathered in the kitchen when we arrive home, but I rush Bella up the stairs before they can stop us. She doesn't look like she can deal with anything at the moment, especially the high inquisition from our nosey friends.

Bella looks so lost, and her movements are robotic as she changes into a t-shirt of mine. I avert my eyes, which is ridiculous because I know Bella's naked form better than I know my own. I can recall every detail of her beautiful body to my mind easily, a skill that I've been utilizing embarrassingly often in the last couple months.

She moves around the room, finally climbing into my bed, and I don't know what to do. I don't want to be presumptuous and assume that she still wants me there. But then she turns her big, lost eyes on me, and I rush to her side. I shuck my hooded sweatshirt and sneakers before sliding in next to her. She immediately curls into my side. Once again, I still her shaking hands as she looks up at me with those eyes. We lie together in silence as I stroke her hair. The tension slowly leaves her body.

I gently remove the hair tie that keeps her long, mahogany hair up in a messy knot. It tumbles around her shoulders, and my fingers play with the silky strands.

We stay that way for a really long time. At some point, Alice pops her head in the doorway, looking nervous. I shake my head when she attempts to enter, and I mime our handshake, indicating that I will talk to her later. Alice nods and places a mug of tea on my dresser before disappearing again.

Bella doesn't seem to notice.

"Do you want some tea?" I ask after a few more minutes of silence.

She just shakes her head and continues to stare at me with her big, sad eyes. I stare right back, drinking in her features as if I am dying of thirst for her. Which is probably a pretty accurate way to describe the past few months.

"I was scared that you wouldn't come get me," she murmurs after an insurmountable time passes in silence.

"I'll always be there for you, Bella," I tell her, because it's the truth.

"I missed you," she confesses, closing her eyes and pulling me impossibly closer.

"I missed you too," I respond, because that's the truth too.

"I feel so fucking stupid!" she yells, tensing up all over again.

"Why, baby?" I ask, alarmed. I roll to my side so I can see her face better.

"Because I fucking let Renee into my life when she came back, spouting lies of reform! I knew she couldn't change, yet I was stupid enough to buy into her crap. Fool me once, shame on whatever, fool me twice, shame on me, or whatever the fuck that saying is."

She's on quite the roll, and I hope the venting is helping, so I don't interrupt.

"But she weasels her way back in. Like this! Do you see this?" She reaches under my t-shirt that she wears and shows me a locket, popping it open to reveal a tiny picture of her and Renee.

"She fucking gave me this for my goddamn twenty-first birthday a week ago. A motherfucking week ago! She is the mother of all cocksuckers. How the fuck could she do this to me again? And Phil! I had to be the one to tell my stepfather that his motherfucking wife left him with no explanation. And he is paying my tuition! What the fuck am I going to do? It's probably too late to get loans for the semester. I'll have to drop out and…and…"

I keep expecting Bella to cry. She has gone from zombie to angry, so I think maybe she is finally going to let out the sadness and hurt. Instead she sits up, her whole body shaking and her mouth clenched shut, as if she is physically keeping her sobs at bay. She abruptly chucks the locket against a nearby wall. It bounces, and I watch it slide across the floor and come to rest under my desk.

"Renee really sucks," I say, rubbing her back.

Bella snorts, but continues to shake.

"But it's her, Bella," I say, pulling her down so we are facing each other in bed. Once again I hold her hands, and the tremors stop. "Renee has her own crazy mental problems that keep her from changing. It's her. She is the failure, not you. You are perfect."

She glares at me. "I'm not perfect. I'm unlovable. AND don't even say it!" she bellows, cutting me off. I was indeed about to tell her that I love her, but again that seems like more emotion than she can handle right now, so I keep quiet.

"It's her, Bella," I repeat, stroking her face and looking at her tenderly. "Not you."

She closes her eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. "I'm just so tired," she whimpers. "I'm so tired of feeling like this. It's like I want to crawl out of my own skin and be someone else."

"I quite like you in your skin," I reply. She is breaking my heart, but I don't know what to do to make her feel better.

"I don't understand you, Edward," she says, sounding as exhausted as she claims to be. "Why do you put up with me? I cause you nothing but drama, drama, drama."

"All I know is that my life is a whole lot more interesting, and enjoyable with you in it." I kiss her temple and will her to believe me.

"I guess I could say the same to you," she replies, her fingers threading through my hair. Though she smiles momentarily, her face falls, and once again, I think she is going to cry. She looks so dejected, my heart aches. Her pain is my pain, and I would do anything to make it stop. She brings her hands up to cover her face and curls into a little ball at my chest. I put my arms around her, keeping her close. She lets out a little whimper, and I think she is finally crying , but when she removes her hands, her cheeks are dry and her big brown eyes are vacant.

I stroke her hair, kissing any part of her face I can reach: eyelids, cheeks, nose, lips, forehead. I hope she finds my actions comforting.

It's a strange mix of emotions for me. I'm thrilled to see her again, overjoyed that she needs me, that I'm the person she turns to when things get hard. At the same time, her pain absolutely cripples me.

Bella tilts her head, bringing our lips together in a chaste kiss that quickly turns hungry. It's been far too long, and I've missed her like crazy, but I don't push. Bella has never been this needy before. Typically, she throws me down and has her way with me. Occasionally, I take control, but she has never been like this before. She's never been this… desperate.

Bella's tongue hesitantly finds its way into my mouth, and I groan.

It's been way too long. I hope I don't embarrass myself.

I slow us down again, not wanting to take advantage of Bella's emotional upheaval. But she is insistent, pulling on my shoulders until I roll on top of her. She quivers below me, fingers raking down my back before pulling off my t-shirt.

Again I pause, trying to read the expression on her face. She is breathing heavily, but her eyes hold panic.

"Bella, baby, I—"

"Edward," she says, interrupting me and locking her limbs around me to prevent me from moving away. I don't want her to feel like she has to have sex with me. I don't want her to feel pressure. "Please."

That simple, single syllable word shatters all my resolve.

"Please, make me feel good again. I don't want to think anymore. Please."

My lips are back on hers before the last word fully leaves her mouth. Our lovemaking is frantic and desperate. The emotion of the afternoon combined with that of our reunion causes us to combust as the fiery shivers take over. Our clothes are quickly removed, and I go down on her. She screams my name as she comes in my mouth, and I thrust into her before she fully comes down from her orgasmic high. The pace I set is furious, and I tilt her hips up, supporting her lower back with a pillow, because I need to feel every inch of her. I have her screaming my name again before I let myself get lost in the pleasures of Bella's body.

I stare down at her for a long time, reverently stroking her face as I smile. She looks up at me with equal devotion. If I have to give a name to the look on her face, I would call it love. Despite our exhaustion, the moment is charged.

But eventually, Bella has to pee. She kisses each of my eyelids before slipping out from under me and padding over to the bathroom. I want to go with her, both in case she needs me but also because I'm pathetically in love with her and don't like it when she is out of my sight. But that seems too protective and needy, so I stay put.

She returns a minute or two later, still naked, and crawls back into bed. Bella settles herself against my chest. My arms wraps around her waist, and my thumb finds that spot right below her hipbone that I like to touch. Her hipbone sticks out more than usual, but I try not to worry anymore. I just want to enjoy this time I have with the girl I love.

"Thank you," she murmurs as she runs her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation.

"You never have to thank me for that," I reply. "It's yours."

She falls asleep in my arms moments later. Even though it is only seven-thirty, I am somehow able to join her in slumber. I just hope that I wake up before her, because I want to be the one to cook her breakfast for once.

"I hate that noise," Bella groans into my shoulder. I can't help but agree with her, and I lean over her to turn off the alarm blaring on my bedside table. I sit against the headboard as I attempt to rub the sleep from my eyes. "But waking up with you is not so bad."

I smile and lean down to kiss her quickly, but I have to break away as I yawn. Although Bella and I got to bed very early, we didn't do much sleeping. Bella woke me countless times throughout the night with her hands and her mouth on me. I gladly provided her the distraction she craved. It's already nine, and I have class at ten. I'm really not ready to get up or to leave Bella.

"I'm delightfully sore," Bella sighs as she stretches. The sheet falls away, revealing the swell of her breasts. I'm both alarmed at her words and turned on by the sight of her before me, naked in my bed.

"Did I hurt you?" I croak out, finding speech difficult.

"No," she giggles, throwing a leg over my waist. She sits in my lap and presses her naked chest to mine. "I'm just out of shape. It has been way too long since our last all-night sex marathon. My muscles aren't used to all the attention."

I chuckle at her comment, but it has the unfortunate effect of bringing me back to reality. The reason we haven't been together in so long is the freaking elephant in the room. We need to talk about it, even if I really want to pretend the whole thing didn't happen.

Plus, she's making it sound like she hasn't been with anyone since me. And suddenly I have to know.

"Can I ask you a question?" I wrap my arms around her waist as her fingers thread through my hair.

"Of course. After a night like that, you can do whatever you want," she basically purrs. Bella smirks at me as my cock hardens between us.

"Have you been with anyone else? Since this summer?" I ask quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Bella snorts. "Hell no. I barely left my fucking room."

"Why?" I ask, confused now.

Bella blushes and shrugs. She looks uncomfortable, and I grin. I think she's as miserable without me as I am without her.

"You really did miss me," I state in wonder.

"I already told you that."

"I'm glad you called me."

"Me too."

"But I just don't understand. Why me? You were with Jacob and your boys. Why did you call me when you didn't even talk to me about leaving Forks this summer?"

Bella sighs heavily, resting her forehead against my neck. "I don't know what to say about this summer. I couldn't breathe, and Charlie… I just had to leave. But that doesn't change how I feel about you. You are my very best friend, Edward. You get me… how I am now. I knew you would make me feel better."

Best friend. Like most things that come out of Bella's mouth, I have mixed feelings about this statement. I'm important to her, even more so than Jacob, it would seem, but I still want more.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, referring to Renee.

"There really isn't anything left to say," Bella murmurs. She scoots closer to me, making it even more difficult to conceive getting out of bed.

"When do you have class today?" I ask, trying to distract myself from our general nakedness.

"Missing it as we speak," she says dismissively.

"Shit, sorry. I would have set my alarm—"

"Baby, I'm not planning on leaving this bed all damn day. Except maybe for snacks. You could stay with me if you want…"

I'm highly tempted, but I really can't miss Anatomy. I kiss her quickly.

"How about this. I go to class." Bella pouts, and I kiss her again to make her smile. "But I rush back here as soon as I get out, and I'll bring you lunch, and then I won't leave this room except to get you more snacks."

"Fine, as long as you don't wear clothes either."

After Bella's mom leave, life goes back to what it was before the summer. It's like we both decided to just wipe the last few months from our collective memory and pretend like it never happened.

Bella doesn't want to talk about the summer, nor does she want to talk about Renee, and as usual, I don't push her. I know our problems aren't going to magically dissipate without discussion, but I'm so relieved to have her back- as much of her as she will give me, anyway- I don't say anything.

For the first few weeks after our reunion and Renee's departure, Bella is quiet, skittish, and shockingly clingy. I don't mind. In fact, it's a nice change of pace. She greets me at the door when I get home from the hospital and holds my hand when I walk her to classes. In the library, she pulls her chair close to mine, even though it is awkward to study like that. It's like she's worried I'm going to disappear too.

He concerns are unwarranted. I'm not going anywhere.

Before, Bella hated PDA and would cringe when I kissed her or held her hand outside the safety of the house on Goss or her tiny dorm room. Now, she's the one to initiate contact.

I enjoy it, but it worries me anyway, because the attention is so un-Bella like. As weeks pass and she gets happier, more animated, but she keeps touching me. I hope this is a permanent change.

Three weeks after Renee left, Phil calls Bella to invite her to dinner. "Edward," she says after she hangs up the phone with her stepdad. "I can't do this. He's going yell and blame me and stop paying my tuition."

"Do you want me to go with you?" I offer, fully expecting her to tell me to fuck off, that she doesn't need me. But instead she nods and smiles in gratitude.

Bella holds my hand as we walk west down Pearl Street towards the mall. We are meeting Phil at Salt, a Mexican restaurant with a good happy hour. She is nervous and pissed off, because she has no control of her future. What happens next totally depends on her stepfather.

We arrive before Phil, and I buy Bella a drink at the bar while we wait. In my head, I come up with a million backup plans to keep Bella in school. All involve me shelling out exorbitant amounts of money, so Bella would never agree.

"God, he'll probably want me to pay him back. I mean, I was planning on paying him back anyway. But I was thinking in small installments. Over many years. But he'll probably want in all back now, and I can't do that! And—"

"Bella," I say, interrupting her before she can get more hysterical. "Let's just hear what he has to say, okay?"

I've never met Phil and only met Renee on one memorable occasion, but from what Bella tells me, he sounds like a reasonable guy. I just hope he doesn't take his anger with Renee out on her daughter.

"Right. You're right. God." She quickly finishes her pink, fruity margarita. "I'm so frazzled."

"It's cute," I assure her, kissing her nose.

"Thank you," she says, placing a hand on my thigh, "for coming with me."

"They have good food here," I reply with a shrug.

Phil arrives five minutes later. He's lean, brown-haired, and much younger than I expected. Though he wears a nice suit, his cheeks are gaunt, and he has dark circles under his eyes.

"Bella," he says, giving her an awkward side hug in greeting.

"Hi, Phil," she says with a sad smile. "How are you?"

"Just taking it one day at a time," he says with a grimace. "Who do we have here?"

"This is Edward." Bella slips a hand through the crook of my arm. "Edward, this is Phil."

We shake hands before a hostess leads us to a table set for three by the windows. A waitress appears, taking our drink order. Bella gets another marg, Phil gets a scotch, while I stick to water.

"So you're a lucky lady," Phil says, fiddling with the napkin in his lap. "Having two young men in your life. It must be nice."

"What?" Bella asks in confusion.

"Well, that boy Jake was with you at the house. Now you bring this young man," he says, waving a hand in my general direction.

"Oh," Bella says, her shoulders slumping at Phil's less-than-friendly tone. "Jake is just my friend. I've known him forever." I raise an eyebrow, curious to see where she's going with this.

"So Edward is your boyfriend?" Phil asks bluntly.

Bella looks like a frog as her eyes bug out and her mouth opens and closes. I chuckle and cover her hand on the table. "Yup," I reply, knowing that Bella will be unable to answer this question without looking like an idiot. I'm not going to directly push Bella to change, but I've decided to advertise the fact that I see her as my girlfriend.

"Right. Excellent. Good for you two." Phil's tone does not match his words. He is very obviously angry, and although he may have every right to be, I don't want him upsetting Bella further. She has only really started acting like herself in the last few days. I don't want Phil making her feel worse about the situation.

Bella's brow is furrowed and she bounces her leg, indicating her nerves. I rest a palm on her bare thigh, stilling her movements. Immediately, her hand finds mine underneath the table.

"Thank you," replies Bella. "How are things, Phil?"

He takes a deep breath. "Fine, I suppose. I've been basically living at work. The house is so cold and empty now."

Bella nods in understanding, obviously remembering how alone she felt last time. I squeeze her hand.

"I feel so stupid," he says, closing her eyes tightly. "She isn't the person I thought she was."

"No, she isn't. I'm so sorry, Phil." Bella's eyes are sorrow-filled, and she is genuinely hurting for her stepfather.

"Sweetheart," he says, giving her a small smile and patting her free hand that rests on the table by her drink. "It's not your fault. It's not my fault either. This is all your mother's doing. And I know you're basically grown up now, but she left you too."

Bella nods again, and finishes off her second drink.

The table slips into a tense silence. Phil and I occupy the time by crunching away on chips and salsa. Bella doesn't eat. I have been force-feeding her lately, but now she's back to not eating and staring blankly.

We order and our food arrives. We make pleasant conversation as we eat, though it feels forced.

"Bella," Phil says, breaking one of the many awkward silences as we finish off our meal. "I have to ask. I'm sorry, but I have to ask. Have you heard from your mother? Has Renee tried to contact you?"

His voice is strained and his eyes are pleading. I wonder what he wants her answer to be.

Bella laughs humorlessly and shakes her head. "No, Phil. She hasn't tried to get in touch with me. I would tell you if she had, but I doubt it. Last time, I didn't hear anything from her until she showed up just before graduation with you. But I honestly don't think she'll be back."

"Oh."

"She's permanently a wayfaring stranger," Bella explains, looking as close to tears as I've ever seen her. I squeeze her hand again. "And it's like you said. She left me, too."

"I'm so sorry, Bella," he says again, as if he could have prevented his wife's actions. "For everything."

"You were so good for her," Bella says, looking puzzled now. "How could she not see it? How could she not stick around for you?"

Phil smiles a real, large smile. "I could say the same about you, Bella."

Bella smiles, blushes, and drops her gaze to her lap. I smile because she looks so beautiful when she smiles.

I don't think Phil and Bella have ever shared this many words before over the course of their relationship.

Bella takes a deep breath and looks up at Phil. "Listen, Phil. I know Renee coerced you into paying my tuition, and I can't pay you back all right now, but I'm looking into taking out loans for next semester. And when I graduate and get a job, maybe we can set up a payment plan or—"

"Bella, really," Phil responds, looking horrified. "I would never accept a cent from you! It's been a pleasure paying for your education. I have too much money and don't give back enough, you know? I don't have kids. I don't really have any family. And I have no plans to stop singing checks to CU Boulder."

Bella's mouth falls open slightly in shock, and her eyes go wide. She looks like an owl. A really fucking sexy owl.

"Phil… I can't ask you to do that. I can't keep taking your money. To be honest, I'm used to taking care of myself, and even when Renee was around, I was uncomfortable with the situation."

"Bella, that's ridiculous."

"My mom left you!" Bella says, her voice rising. She is the one doing the hand squeezing now. "The woman that brought me into this world caused you so much pain. You can't keep funding my college! It's such a waste."

"You are not a waste, Bella," Phil says, scowling with conviction. "You pull a three-eight GPA. You're bright, funny, full of potential." I smirk, because it's about time someone else besides just me is speaking these truths. "You are going to graduate and go on to write novels. I am going to fund it."

Bella stares at him, and I mentally will her to not argue. And for once, she doesn't. She doesn't say anything as she rises from her seat and throws her arms around an utterly bemused Phil. He pats her back as she whispers something in his ear. With a final squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, Bella retreats, taking her seat again.

Conversation is a lot livelier after that.

Phil, Bella, and I all reach for the bill at the end of the meal, but my girl is victorious.

"Come on, Bells," Phil says with a chuckle. "Don't be ridiculous. You guys are poor college kids. Let me pay."

"Absolutely not," Bella says, pulling out a credit card from her thin, golden wallet. "You are paying my college tuition. Do you have any idea what a big deal that is? I feel like a Make-A-Wish kid or something right now. So if I'm letting you pay for that, you are letting me pay for this."

There are no more arguments about the bill, and ten minutes later, we all are smiling as we walk out the door onto Pearl Street.

"This may sound strange," Phil says as we pause on a corner to say goodbye. "But I actually had a good time tonight."

"Me too," Bella says with a smile. "We should do it again! Or I could even cook for you at home. We do these family dinners, and you should come the next time."

"Definitely. So you do this at your dorm?"

"Oh," she says. "No. I meant Edward's house." She absently places a hand on my chest, and I grin because Bella just referred to the house on Goss as home. She practically lives there, anyway, and has a key that she never needs to use, because most of my idiot roommates don't believe in locking the front door.

"Sounds good, Bella," he replies. "Just let me know."

They hug, and I shake Phil's hand before I wrap an arm around Bella and we walk home. Where we live. Basically together.


	18. The Why of Waldo

** Okay… so this chapter is straight old school fluff. I wasn't even planning on posting it because it was mostly an attempt to overcome the madness of writers block, but I'm going on vacation today (yeah Florida!) and have nothing new ready to post at the moment. It does fall in the correct timeline of the story, though. This is right after Nerdward and Troubledlla get back together.**

**For you present-focused readers, you might want to wait till next time (whenever that may be). There is not a lot of plot progression and you wont get lost for chapter 19 if you choose to skip this, but I think it's a good read anyway. Real cute. And comical. And shows there were actually a lot of good times in the past, despite all the crap Bella pulled.**

**I don't own. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

October 3, 2006 – Junior Year

I straddle Edward on the couch in the living room of the house on Goss, kissing any skin I can reach, and rubbing myself shamelessly all over him.

"You are making it extremely difficult to focus on Anatomy," he declares with a chuckle.

"Oh, yes. Please focus on _my_ anatomy," I whisper huskily in his ear.

"Bella," he says, groaning slightly. His free hand – the one not holding onto the textbook for dear life - tightens on my thigh, limiting my mobility considerably. "It was the focusing on your anatomy last night that means I have to focus on this anatomy now. I behind on my reading for tomorrow."

"But no one's home. We can have sex anywhere!" I point out, very logically mind you.

He laughs and kisses my nose. "I love you, but we are definitely not having sex anywhere at the moment."

"Yeah, well I hate you." I cross my arms over my chest and lean back to glare at him. He smiles again, damn him, and removes my lip from between my teeth with his thumb.

"Hot hate is twin brother to hot love," he murmurs in my ear.

I shutter slightly and punch him in the shoulder.

"Really? You're quoting Sir Arthur Conan Doyle at me? You're slinging around literary references, and you're not even going to fuck me?" I punch him repetitively, not stopping until her traps my somewhat ineffectual fists in his much larger hands. "You hated that book and so did I!"

"Like the line though." He smirks at me while I glare at him, breathing heavily in my anger and tunred-on-ness.

"But I'm horny, Edward!" I whine petulantly. I sound like a toddler having a full-fledged temper tantrum. Except it's a needing nookie temper tantrum, which is not something toddlers usually get upset about.

But I digress.

He chuckles again and blushes slightly, finally setting aside the heavy textbook he's held onto since I plopped myself down on his lap.

"How about we make a deal?"

"A sex deal?" I ask brightly, pleased when his thumbs start tracing circles on my lower back.

"Exactly. If we have sex now, you have to promise to leave me alone tonight and let me get caught up on reading," he says, looking stern.

"We're going to the library tonight," I point out, tracing the sharp line of his jaw with my tongue and grabbing on to the glorious hair. "You'll get stuff done."

"That hasn't stopped us in the past," he reminds me. I'm pleased to hear his voice get husky and his breathing pick up as his hands tighten their grip on my waist. Ah, library sex. So hot. So dangerous. "So do we have a deal or what?"

"Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?" I reply, suddenly pissed that he doesn't want to do me. "I don't want to fuck someone who doesn't want to fuck me." I try to get off his lap and retreat into a different room, but he holds me in place.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asks, frowning.

"I've never had to, nor should I have to, coerce anyone into having sex with me," I hiss, punching him again.

"Bella," he says with a slight smile. "I always want to have sex with you. That's the problem!"

I stare at him blankly for a moment before once again attempting to get as far away from him as possible. But, once again, he fucking overpowers me.

"Listen, love. If I spent all the time I was with you doing exactly what I wanted to do with you, neither of us would ever get anything done! We wouldn't even eat! Or sleep! We would just have sex. All the time," he tells me, looking bemused.

"So you _do_ want to have sex with me?" I clarify.

He lets out a strangled laugh. "What do you think?" he asks, thrusting up off the couch and letting me feel just how much he wants me. "It's _hard_ to remember all the stuff I have to do, all the responsibilities I have when you're near me. You are all I can think about."

"Really?"

"Yes, silly girl," he says, taking my face in between his palms. "I love you, mind and body just as I want you, mind and body."

He's making me feel all tender and girly and I don't like it, so I punch him in the shoulder again.

"Bella!"

"Are we going to do it or not?" I demand.

He lets out some sort of frustrated growl before kissing me. I basically squeal in delight and try to remove his clothes as quickly as possible while my mouth moves against his. It's difficult because under his sweater there is a shirt with a lot of buttons to deal with and I only get about half of the done before I'm distracted from my mission. Edward kisses his way down my neck to my exposed chest as his hand snakes down my stomach into my jeans.

I half sigh and half giggle as his talented figures touch me just how I like it.

"What's so amusing," he inquires, blinking up at me from the region of my tits, his hands never ceasing their movement.

"We got in a sex fight," I say with a laugh, winding my fingers through his hair and rocking against his hand.

"That we did," he agrees, lips moving back to my chest.

I kiss him again but then stupid fucking Alice and stupid fucking Rosalie and their stupid fucking, boyfriends rudely interrupt us.

"Wow," Rosalie comments casually as I glance up at them loitering in the kitchen behind the couch. Edward squeaks and frantically tries to close my flannel shirt. He removes his hand from down my panties and I let out a low growl in frustration. "That was kinda hot for a bunch of nerds."

Emmett and Jasper high five before breaking out into a jerky little hip thrusting sex dance. I blush furiously and hide my face in Edward neck.

"Ew, shut the fuck up, Rose!" Alice shrieks, dramatically throwing a hand over her eyes. "That's our best friend and my brother fornicating on my couch!"

"Oh, please," Rose scoffs. "Like you've never fornicated on that couch."

"Double ew! What the fuck have you been doing on my couch! " Alice continues to freak, rounding on her older brother and shaking him violently, as Edward and I readjust our clothes to cover our private bits.

"Lookin' good, Bells," Emmett says, winking at me before jumping away as Rosalie joins Alice in a physical assault against the giant oaf.

"Shut the hell up, Emmett!" Edward yells, scowling over his shoulder at his brother as he moves to fix his own button up.

"What, it's the truth!" Em grabs three beers from the fridge and settles across from us on the couch, handing us each a bottle. I slide my butt off Edward but keep my legs draped across his lap. With a final inventory of our clothing situation, Edward lets out a frustrated huff and accepts an open beer from Emmett. I do the same as the rest of the family joins us.

"Sorry to interrupt," says Jasper, his expression fluctuating between amusement and regret. "But this is the living room, don't yah know."

"Thus the basis of its appeal," I say with an eye roll. I can't believe after all the fighting, we don't even get our sex on.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" asks Alice, absently flipping through a fashion magazine as she sips on a glass of white wine.

"Anatomy," Edward says, picking up his fucking textbook again.

"Yeah, _anatomy_," I agree as Edward stifles a moan. Giggling, I pinch his butt causing him to yelp.

"Will you please stop that bizarre mating ritual, you two?" Alice pleads. "God, you're worse than Rose and Emmett."

"I find that offensive," says Rosalie.

"Me too!" interjects Emmett.

"Good grief," says Jasper with a headshake. He's the most sensible of our little family unit. And by most sensible I mean least insane.

"Why is it so hard to have a normal conversation with you people?" Alice asks in disbelief. "Bella, how was your day?"

"Almost perfect," I mumble glaring at the four cockblockers across from me.

"Stop pouting, you horny slut," Rosalie says with a scoff.

"Don't call her that," Edward snaps, glaring at Rosalie.

"I'm thinking about getting a cat," I announce, mostly to stop the argument brewing between Rose and Edward, but also because I really want a cat.

"No, you're not," Edward scoffs at me. "No, she isn't," he assures the rest of the family.

I just smile serenely and let the conversation drift elsewhere. I settle next to Edward as the housemates chatter. With the book in his lap, glasses on his face, and a beer in his hand, he looks just about perfect.

For once I feel apart of something bigger than myself. And I like it.

* * *

November 7, 2006

On a sunny winter day, Edward and I eat lunch on the steps of Norlin Library. We face the mountains, not speaking but seated with no space between us. With the sun on my face, I stare at the Flatirons as I munch on my sandwich. I can feel Edward gazing at me, and I wonder what he's thinking.

As an RA, I get munch money to spend in the dining halls, and I brought us each a sandwich. Edward has tuna. It's nothing special, but it's free and he gets to meet me.

"You look so beautiful, with the sun bringing out the red in your hair," he says quietly. He tells me I'm beautiful all the time. I'm still not all that comfortable with the compliments, so I change the subject.

"I'm thinking about getting a cat," I say abruptly, interrupting his musings.

"What?" he asks like an idiot.

"A cat. I've decided that I'm a cat person," I say, with a shrug.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I turn to look at him and giggle at his incredulous expression.

"I want a cat. You know, a cuddly little kitty that I can rescue from the shelter and give a home." I've been thinking about this for a while. Something to nurture in my life will only improve me, I think.

"But cat's are living things. They need food. You have to take care of them. It's a big responsibility," he argues, being the logical one as usual.

I snort into my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Several of the chips I've crammed in between the slices of bread to make the meal crunchy fall by our feet at the movement, but Edward doesn't notice.

"I deal with twenty crazed freshmen daily. I think I can handle a pet," I say, slightly offended that he thinks I can't do the cat thing.

"Have you ever even had a pet before?" he demands, going a different route as he sees that I'm serious.

"Nope. Figure now is as good a time as ever," I say, finishing off my meal and lighting up a cigarette as I recline on my elbows.

"You're ridiculous," he says, smiling.

"Great. It's settled then. You want to come with me to the pound this weekend? We can pick one out together."

He shakes his head and smiles. I can see the exact moment he realizes just what I'm asking.

"Isabella," he says, keeping his voice pleasant as he reaches out to rub the back of my neck with his thumb." The dorms have a no pet policy, don't they?"

"Yup," I reply, avoiding his gaze.

"Isabella," he continues, playing with my fingers on the hand that I placed on his thigh. He knows I'm trying to distract him with my general sexiness, no doubt. "Where will this cat live?"

"With us, silly," I say dismissively.

"Us?" he stammers.

"Yeah. I mean, I spend so much time at your house anyway. It will make more sense for our little kitty to live there instead." I scoot closer to him, one hand moving farther up his thigh and the other threading through his hair.

"My house?" He sounds like an idiot, and I hope my close proximity is distracting him enough to let me get my way.

I shuffle around on the stairs, coming to rest in front of him in between his thighs. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my chest to his. His eyes flutter closed, allowing me to kiss both his eyelids.

"Yes, Edward," I breathe in his ear as he tightens his grip on my hips. I kiss him slowly, deeply, but I end it far too quickly. "So I'm glad that's settled."

He hums something incomprehensible and kisses me again, slipping his palms underneath my shirt at the small of my back. Groaning, he presses his thumbs into my back dimples that he claims to like so much, and I forget that we are in public.

I giggle at his desperation and nibble on his lip.

"We'll go to the pound this weekend, then," I murmur, thinking that I've sufficiently seduced the desired answer out of him.

"Not a chance," he snickers suddenly, shocking the hell out of me. I'm used to getting what I want with Edward.

"But—"

"You're sexy as hell, Isabella," he tells me as I lean away, sitting on my heels. "But I hate cats."

"But—"

"It's really never going to happen."

My lips part slightly as I gape at him in shock. He smiles the crooked smile he knows I love before standing. He shoulders his unnecessarily enormous backpack, and pulls me up with a hand.

"Come on, you crazy cat lady," he says, keeping his hand in mine. Let me walk you to class."

* * *

November 10, 2006

On nights that I have RA duty, Edward usually stays with me in Hallett. Back in the day, I hated having duty on Friday nights because I was unable to go out and party. Now, I don't mind as much. I like staying in with Edward. He's the ultimate distraction, and I don't need all that outside crap distracting me from him.

Tonight, we watch a Ken Burns documentary on PSB. We sit sideways on my narrow bed with our backs against the wall, looking at my miniscule little TV.

My door stays open, letting everyone in Hallett know that I'm the onw that will deal with any issues that might arise between the hours of eight PM and two AM. I just hope that no one bleeds or gets alcohol poisoning or does something stupid before I can close my door and fuck my boy.

Already, way before Thanksgiving, a commercial comes on for Christmas crap. I snort in disgust and burrow deeper into Edward's side.

"I'm telling you now, so you have time to mentally prepare yourself," he says, pressing a thumb into my hip. "But I'm going to get you a Christmas present."

"Um, no your not," I say. "Because I'm not getting you one."

"Seriously, why not?"

"Because you can't give me anything I want that I don't already have," I tell him. He puts up with my shit and makes me come all the time. What else could I want?

"You have to want something," he murmurs.

"Nope."

"Yes, you do. Think about it."

"Oh!" I say, sitting up and turning on the mattress to face him. "I know what I want!"

"Really?" he says, sounding unsure.

"Yeah. A kitty cat!"

He groans and whacks his head backwards against the wall. "Really, Bella? You're still on this cat thing?"

"I really think a cute little kitten would be a great addition to our lives," I say, nodding sagely.

"It's really not going to happen."

I progress to go on a violent rant complete with violent hand gestures and at least eight "cocksuckers", but Edward seems unruffled. I lean back against the wall with a thud and cross my arms over my chest when I finish.

"I really not scared of you," he tells me with a smirk. Something about the way he says it makes me go all soft inside. Edward isn't scared of anything. Doesn't he know that?

"Baby," I say, shuffling around to face him. "I know you aren't afraid of me. You're not afraid of anything, you warrior you. "

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asks, looking puzzled. "I'm a dork."

And he says _I'm_ the one who doesn't see myself clearly. Hypocrite.

"You're like the peaceful warrior who only jumps into action under the most dire of circumstances," I tell him, including some kick ass karate moves to support my point.

"Warrior?" he asks, still confused. "Me?"

"Yes," I say, giggling. "You always defend me to Rosalie when she calls me a slut—"

"That's because you aren't and she has no business calling you something so vile," he sputters angrily. I smile and continue as if he didn't speak.

"You stand up to Jake, even when he tries to intimidate you out of my life," I say, listing my evidence for warrior Edward on my fingers.

"I—" I put a hand over his mouth, forcing him to remain silent.

"And you punched James," she remind him, wincing slightly at the unpleasant memory. "You're a total warrior, Edward Cullen, even if you do wear a lot of sweaters, vests, and corduroy pants."

"I'm a doofus," he mumbles, utterly gob smacked by my words, apparently.

"If you're a doofus," I say, leaning forward to get as close to Edward as possible without actually touching him. He closes my eyes, letting me kiss each lid. "Than I'm a doofus." It's cheesy and a little Notebook-esque, but true.

He scoffs, looking down at me, surveying my wardrobe. I wear a pair of leopard print thermal long underwear leggings as PJ bottoms, a long sleeve, blue v-neck t-shirt, and my usually collection of rings and bracelets.

"You have your own style" he sputters, "and it's undeniably cool. You smoke, listen to reggae music, paint your nails black, and have a nose ring. Bella Swan is definitely not doofus material."

"It's true!" I insist. "I spend most of my free time in the library with you. I'm an RA which is the college equivalent of a narc, and I'm watching an eleven part documentary on the Civil War on a Friday night. We're a couple of motherfucking doofuses."

He pulls me back into his side, kissing my forehead and holding me close. "We are not. Doofuses don't have as much good sex as we do," he whispers in my ear.

I blush. I hate blushing. It's so rare and annoying an occurrence.

"That's right, baby," I say. "Lots and lots of sex. So can we get a cat?"

"No!"

I like to think I'm making progress.

* * *

December 6, 2006

"Edward!" I bellow from the hallway of Hallett, causing him to jump about a foot in his seat at my dorm room desk. Edward came back to Hallett after his morning classes. I was having a lazy morning, reading in bed. We screwed around for a couple hours before I headed off to my own classes. I wasn't supposed to be back for another forty-five minutes, and Edward has obviously been using my empty room to study. As usual.

"What? Are you okay? What happened?" he demands in a panic as he turns to look at me doorway. I'm bundled in a black puffy jacket with a fur hood, a yellow scarf, burgundy hobo gloves, and combat boots. My cheeks are flushed, and I smile at him to indicate that nothing is wrong. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Facking shat, dude," I shriek, bounding over to him joyfully. Taking his face between my hands, I jerk his head in the general direction of the only window in the small room. "Do you not look up at all when you study? Do you even see anything beyond this book?"

"Sometimes," he mumbles defensively. He attempts to remove my grip from his chin, but I hold firm. His brain is probably still focused on chemistry equations and body parts. He's not getting what I want him to see.

"Look with your eyeballs, anatomy boy," I insist, shaking him slightly. "You know what those are, don't you?"

"I see a whole lot of grey sky," he grumbles in reply. "Snow—"

"SNOW! Exactly! It's the first snow of the season!" I squeak. Feeling more like Alice than myself, I plop into Edward's lap and kiss him quickly.

"You look like a little kid," he murmurs. "Your eyes are bright."

He puts his arms around me as I lay my head on his shoulder.

"I love the first snow," I tell him softly, wishing that I'd removed my thick coat because too many layers are separating us. "It's so clean. Makes everything fresh, shinny and new. Of course, but February I'll be cursing the weather gods and hating the cold, but right now I love it."

"It's quite beautiful," he says, kissing my temple. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?'

"The professor let us go earily," I explain. "It's really stickin' out there and everyone wanted to play."

"Do you want to play, Isabella?" he breathes in my ear, causing me to shiver because its his sex voice. But I won't let him distract me now. It's the first snow of the season!

"Always," I reply, kissing him quickly before leaping off his lap and rummaging around in my closet. I emerge triumphant with Edward's coat, gloves, scarf, and hat. "Let's get outside!"

"What is it?" Edward asks, a couple hours later. His cheeks are red and snowflakes get caught on his eyelashes. He looks so perfect, all bundled up, so I'm about four seconds away from tackling him. But first I need to explain my snow art.

"What do you think it is?" I ask, slightly offended that he isn't recognize my work for the genius it is.

Edward cocks his head to the side, studying the ground at our feet. His eyes scrunch together and he looks at my art just like he looks at complicated calculus equations.

"I hope this isn't a cat," he says finally.

"It is! It totally, totally is!" I yell in delight.

"Lordy, Isabella," he says with a smile. "Why does it have so many legs? Or is that a penis?"

Now totally offended, I give into my urge to tackle him. We tip over, but the soft snow breaks our fall. Laughing, I straddle him. He's laughing too, until I slowly lean towards his face. He seems to stop breathing and gets this adorable little smile on his face. So naturally I take this as a good opportunity to shove a fist full of snow into his face.

He yelps and stares at me in shock for a moment before reaching up and pushing my face into a nearby snow bank. Things deteriorate into an all out war from there. There is no clear victor by the end, but Edward and I are both soaked down to our undies.

It's so fucking cold, we sprint back to Hallett. Checking quickly that no ones around, we strip and step into the hot shower in the girl's bathroom. I could probably lose my job for such a stunt, but it's totally worth it. There is really no other way to get warm.

* * *

December 16, 2006

"Stop fiddling around with your blindfold," Edward scolds me. Slowly I remove my hands from my eyes, hoping he can see my scowl under the scarf he's tied around my face.

"I hate surprises," I say petulantly.

"Deal with it," he responds. I feel the car turn sharply to the right.

"Did finals break your brain? Are you kidnapping me? Are you taking me deep into the mountains to murder me and then dispose of the body?" I ask, fiddling with the knot at the back of my head again.

"You are such a drama queen," he says with a chuckle. I try to punch him in the arm for laughing at me, but I can't fucking see so I miss. "And you can relax because we're here."

I wait while Edward gets out of my truck and opens my door. I grope for his hand, and he helps me clamor down from the cab. He stands behind me, wrapping his arms around me and awkwardly walking us forward.

"Okay," he says when we enter a building. I can only tell by the sounds of the doors and the central heating. "Take the damn thing off already."

I yank the scarf down and leave it around my neck, letting my eyes adjust to the light. Slowly, I take in the desk in front of me. The banner above it reads "Humane Society of Boulder County". I turn to Edward, gaping at him in shock for a moment before throwing my arms around his neck.

"Seriously?" I ask when I get a grip.

"Are you seriously surprised?" he asks, grabbing my hand and leading towards the back where the animals are kept. "I thought you were just humoring me with all those demands to tell you where we were going."

"Yeah. I actually am. I really didn't think you were going to cave," I say, still smiling in surprise.

"How could I not give you the one thing you wanted for Christmas?" he asks, kissing my temple.

We walk up and down the aisles, and I want every single cat I see. Even the grizzled old ones. But Edward reminds me that not only are the kittens fucking cute, but they'll live longer. I don't really need something else I love up and leaving me in the near future, so I agree.

"Edward, look," I say, crouching down and pointing at the tiny cat, sleeping in a curled up ball. "He's a ginger, like you!"

"I'm not a ginger," he grumbles, squatting next to me. "Although he's cute. And apparently only 2 months old."

The little kitten, sensing our presence even through the glass, wakes and turns to study us. He has big green, slightly crossed eyes, and he cocks his head to the side, studying me just like my favorite ginger does. He's Edward in cat form.

"That it. He's the one."

"That scrawny little thing?"

"He's perfect."

* * *

December 31, 2007

"Do we have to go?" Edward demands petulantly. He is so cute when he frowns, I can't help but giggle at his childish expression.

"Yes, silly," I reply, wagging a finger at Waldo. He is too scared to jump up onto our bed and is mewling pathetically from the floor. I scoot away from the edge of the bed and pull back the blankets to give him more room. "Come on, my little nerd. You can do it. Up, up, up."

"Bella, you best not be talking to my dick," Edward says grumpily from behind me. "I mean, that just insulting on multiple levels."

Laughing at Edward's absurdity, I pat the bed in encouragement until Waldo finally makes the leap.

"Edward! He did it!" I shout, sweeping my kitty into my arms and giving him a good cuddle. "He's growing up so fast."

"Bella. He manages to get up here every night to sleep on my head without much difficulty. I don't know why you are acting like this is such a big deal," he mumbles rolling away from me in favor of looking at the ceiling and crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"That's because I help him. He just got up here all on his own," I say, cooing down at the kitty purring in against my side.

"Fucking great," he mutters.

"What has you all fucking pissy this lovely evening?" I ask, still using the baby voice reserved for Waldo that annoys everyone, myself included. "We've done it like nine times in the last day and a half. You should be much happier if I was doing it right."

Edward spent Christmas in Forks, while I was here in Boulder. Charlie actually flew out for a few days and we had our holiday with the Blacks. Phil even joined us. All three of my father figures were in the same place and it was fucking weird, but everyone got along. Charlie really bonded over cars and fishing with Billy and Jake while he and Phil mostly stuck to the safe topic of baseball.

Overall, it was a damn good holiday. Very rarely do I feel like I have a family, but I sure did this Christmas. It may be pretty fucked up and far from traditional, but it's definitely a family.

Despite all the joy of the holiday, I missed Edward so much it was borderline unbearable. We were apart for six whole days, and so we've pretty much spent every moment since he flew home yesterday in bed, making up for lost time.

Edward rolls over again, resting his head against my chest and throwing a leg over my waist. "You always do it right," he assures me. His hot breath tickles my ear and I giggle. "But I would much rather just keep you here all to myself."

"We have to go to Jake's," I reply, wrapping my spare arm around his head and holding him to me. "It's a New Year's tradition."

"We can make our own, new tradition," he whispers seductively in my ear before kissing down my neck and nipping at my collarbone. I shift closer, disturbing poor Waldo who lets out an adorable little hiss before settling himself primly on the far corner at the foot of the bed, out of harms way. For the most part.

Using his shoulder, I pull Edward on top of me until his full weight rests on the length of my body. Now, I really enjoy being on top, doing it from behind, up against a wall, on all fours, in the shower, you name it. But there is nothing quite like the feel of Edward laid out on me. I feel safe. Secure. And… cared for. He makes me keep my eyes open, and it makes everything so intense. It's a little uncomfortable, how much I feel for him.

Edward sighs in contentment, smiling down at me before kissing me soundly. I can feel his smile against my lips, and it has the warmth spreading in my belly. My hands travel from his boney shoulders, down the sculpted plane of his back. I love his back. I open my mouth to receive his tongue, and pressing my fingertips into his spine as I make my way to his truly delicious ass. One hand fists in my hair as his other cradles my jaw, I let out a low whimper. Our parts line up so conveniently and we are already naked, and I feel his hardness so close to where I want him.

"Oh, Bella," he groans out as I lift my hips off the bed and pull him towards me with my hands on each ass cheek. "How is that I always want you?" He moves his mouth to my tits, scraping his teeth across the tops before settling with his mouth on my nipple. I hiss in pleasure as his tongue swirls around the peak.

"I love you," he murmurs against my skin, causing me to tense ever so slightly. He doesn't say it very often, but unfortunately I know he thinks he means it. At first, when this unpleasant little declaration became a habit on his part, I would scream at him. We would get in huge fights, me trying to change his mind, him adamantly refusing to do so. Now, I just ignore him. It's easier this way.

We continue to grope and kiss until we're both breathing heavily. His mouth returns to mine, and his pushes a hand between our bodies, circling closer to where I must have him.

Of course it is at this exactly the moment Alice closes to bang on the closed bedroom door.

"Hey! None of that you two!" she calls, causing me to groan in frustration and Edward to growl. He lets out a slew of curses under his breath, including "cocksucker" which makes me smile.

"Go the fuck away, Alice!" he yells, scowling over his shoulder at the door. Immediately, he lowers his head to my lips to mine, only to be interrupted again.

"But it's already almost ten!" his twin shrieks back. "And Bella hasn't even showered yet!"

My breathing settles and Alice's words drift in through my lust-induced fog. She is totally right. Unfortunately.

"Baby," I say, shimming out from under him and sitting up against the headboard. The movement puts his face level with my belly. Hearing the tone of my voice, he lets out a pathetic whimper of misery before collapsing with his forehead against my stomach. "She is right," I continue, chuckling at his dramatics as I run my fingers through his hair.

"Mahumph," is his muffled reply.

"I know you don't want to go. But we won't stay long after midnight. I just want to go dance with you for a while and then do the whole countdown with all of our friends. Then we can come straight back here, and I'll let you fuck me until sun up. Okay?"

"Ogahh," he says, still not moving.

"You are so wise, Bella," puts in Alice, still listening on the other side of the door. "And it has to be a quick shower. None of that conserving water horseshit. I want to leave in half an hour! Oh, and I left your dress hanging in the bathroom."

I hear Alice leave before Edward rolls off me with a dramatic sigh.

"Fucking stupid twin," he mutters, glaring at the ceiling again. I lean over him, hovering over his face until he closes his eyes, allowing me to kiss each eyelid.

"It's going to be a good night, sweetheart," I tell him. "Suck it up!"

Throwing the covers back, I try to slide out of bed, but Edward covers me up again.

"What are you doing? Cover yourself, Isabella," he demands, pulling the sheet to hide my nudity.

"What the fuck are _you _doing?" I reply, glaring at him and swatting his hands away. "I'm just going to the backroom. Do you suddenly not want to see me naked?"

"The cat will see you," he whispers, still covering my private bits with his body and the sheets. At first I think he must be joking, or using this as an excuse to prolong our contact a little longer. But then I glance down to the foot of the bed where Waldo is studying in intently, his furry ginger head cocked to the side.

"You are being ridiculous," I say. "Waldo is just a cat. We were about to do it in front of him."

"An unfortunate oversight on my part," he replies. "If I was thinking clearly, I would have kicked him out. It's creepy, the way he watches you."

"Okay, that's enough with the crazy train. I'm going to shower." I finally manager to weasel my way out of Edward's grip before sauntering naked to the bathroom. I turn as I reach the door and giggle when I see both Edward and Waldo staring at me with the same, head to the side, big eyed expression. "Waldo really is the Edward of cats," I declare.

"Whatever," Edward says, throwing my long ago discarded undies at me. "Just take a shower, cat lady."

"Come on, slow poke," I say, pulling Edward through the throngs of people crammed into Jake's house. It's nearly eleven when we arrive, and I need to locate the host to wish him a happy New Year. My boy drags his feet, not thrilled at being forced to mingle with my ex-boyfriend/current best friend. "Let's find Jake so we can get our grove on."

I grind against him for a moment, causing him to glare at me before marching off towards the kitchen again. He is so ridiculously cranky tonight, and I wonder if something else is going on. Maybe something happened in Forks that has him all moody.

Eventually we locate Jake, sipping on a drink and laughing with Quil and Embry. Moving away from Edward, I rush across the kitchen before throwing myself into Jake's arms. The force of my hug knocks him back into the counter and he lets out a strangled "umph" and chuckles as he returns my greeting.

"Hey, BabysBells," he slurs, lifting me off the ground and crushing my ribs. "Happyyy New Year!"

The stupid drunk bastard is obviously way ahead of me, and I move to pour a couple of drinks when he finally sets me down.

"Ditto, Jakey," I reply, handing a whiskey drink to Edward and mixing a vodka concoction for myself. "Great party. How many of these people do you actually know?"

"I would say somewhere 'round a fifth," he replies, steadying himself with a hand on the counter while the boys laugh at his drunkenness behind his back. "More now that your crowed has arrived. Rosie and Jazz and Em and Alice here too?"

"Yup," I say with a nod, moving back to Edward's side. Jake notices my boy for the first time and glares, crossing his arms over his chest. Edward mirrors his position, and I sigh heavily. Every time I get the two of them together, they have this pissy little man contest. One of these days they are bound to get a long but I suppose today is not the day.

"Welcome to thee party, bloodsucker," Jake says with a smirk.

This ridiculous nickname emerged some time last year when I wasn't paying attention. And although they claim to hate each other, I think they secretly enjoy their weird little competition. They don't have a lot in common, but I think they could actually be friends if they tried.

"Thanks for having me, mongrel," Edward snaps back, offering a hand which Jake squeezes. This is the usual pissing match. Whoever winces first is the wimpy loser with a small penis.

This time, neither of them winces before Jake deteriorates into somewhat hysterical laugher. I join him, because this puffed up chest routine, manly man shit is so absurd. I wrap my arm around Edward's waist, and his hand settles on my shoulder. Somehow the conversation turns pleasant. We continue drinking, talking, and laughing, and somehow it comes out that both Edward and Jake were track stars in high school. They drunkenly decide they must race, but alas there is no room in the crowded house.

My money is on Edward. Jake smokes too much weed.

Eventually, Jake gets distracted by some girl and I drag Edward towards our friends on the dance floor. Edward's hands find my hips, and we move together to the bumping beats of shity pop hits. I dance with Rose and Alice, generally just being goofy.

I have a grand old time. I belong here. These are my people.

Edward pulls me outside to get a little fresh air and privacy. Without looking around, he pushes me up against a wall on the front porch, capturing my lips. I laugh at his concentration as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. Pretty soon, there is no laughter in me, only lust and need. Moaning into his mouth, I hitch my knee around his hip to pull him closer.

"I love this dress," he murmurs, kissing down between my tits. Alice did pick a dozy. Its black, low cut, and so tight I can barely breathe. The sleeves are long, and it's basically backless. Its real fancy, which is the norm for New Years apparently, but I paired it with converse, much to Alice's dismay.

Edward looks just as good in a typical nerdy yet sexy ensemble. Charcoal pants, pinstripe button up, black vest, slip on Vans sneakers. He looks so divine.

"Same," I agree, using his hair to keep him close. He lifts me completely off the ground, kissing me again.

"Let's go home," he mutters.

"Always in such a rush," I reply with a chuckle, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the brick as he moves to kiss my throat. "It's ten minutes till midnight. Then we'll go home."

"Ouch, denied." Oh, dear. I recognize that voice. Edward slowly lowers me to the ground, and I see the blazing end of a cigarette in the shadows of the front deck. He turns his head to glare over his shoulder at the irrupting creepier while shielding my body as I fix my dress.

"Come on, Edward," I say, not wanting to deal with all the negative that is sure to come from this interaction. "It's almost midnight."

"Now whose in a rush, Isabella?" says the seemingly disembodied voice, stopping Edward as I drag him towards the door. I continue to tug on his sleeve. There is no budging and I really want a cigarette.

"Excuse me?" Edward demands aggressively scowling into the dark. "Who're you, you eavesdropping little pervert."

And of course, because the universe hates me, James materializes with his usual smirk.

"Fuck," I mutter as Edward face turns murderous and his body tenses.

"Hey, Bella," he says. "Long time no see. Its been what? A year and a half ago? Ah good times."

"Don't fucking talk to her," Edward hisses, taking a step towards James. I latch on to his elbow, really not wanting to deal with Edward gets punched round two. Not that he didn't do some fine punching last time, but still.

"Yeah, long time. Not so good memories, but yeah, whatever," I say, getting in front of Edward and shoving him backwards. Somehow we get inside, and I pull the door closed behind us.

"Hit me up if you want a reminder of what its like to be with a real man!" he calls just as I slam the front door.

"Come on," I say, dragging Edward towards the packed living room/dance floor. He seems a little shocked and follows me willingly. I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing the memory of James right out of him. Or at least I try. When I pull away his brow is furrowed. I recognize that look. The gears are turning in that far to perceptive brain of his. This cannot be good for me.

But then Champaign is passed around, and someone starts the countdown. I smile up at Edward slyly, silently pleading for him to just let this go. After another moment of deep contemplation, he clinks his plastic glass against mine, pulling me close as the seconds tick away.

I don't, and can't, think about anything else when his lips are on mine. I nibble on his lower lip causing him to groan and force his tongue into my mouth.

"I love you, Isabella," he murmurs, his forehead resting upon mine. I can't even be upset or respond at all because he has succeeded in kissing me senseless. My mind is all foggy. "Happy New Year."

"Take me home," I demand, pleased that he does just what I request.

* * *

January 1, 2008

"I can feel you staring at me," I say with a smile without even opening my eyes. Edward and I spent New Year's Day in bed, and I was attempting to take a little nap in the mid-after noon sun streaming in through the window.

"You're too beautiful. To not look at you would be a travesty," he replies, kissing my temple. Humming in pleasure, I wiggle closer until there is no space between us. I'm secure within the circle of his arms. My head rests on his shoulder and one legs lays between his.

"This day is perfect," I murmur, keeping my eyes closed.

"Breakfast in bed was a real highlight," he agrees, pressing his nose into my hair.

"I was more referring to all the sex, but yeah. I do make a mean Denver omelet," I reply.

"All the sex is always excellent," he says softly. "I love you."

"Edward," I admonish, burrowing into his chest to avoid reality. "Don't ruin my perfect day."

"Oh dear," he replies, sounding seriously fucking concerned.

"What?" I ask warily, slowly lifting my head to get a good look at him.

"You're not going to like what I want to talk to you about," he admits, looking guilty.

"I knew it!" I declare sitting all the way up and pulling the sheet with me to cover my nudity. "You have been fucking grumpy as shit since you got back from Forks. I knew something unpleasant happened. So just spill it. Fucking lay it on me so we can go back to the perfect part."

"Shit," Edward mutters under his breathing, sitting up and turning slightly in bed to face me. "When did you get so perceptive? I wasn't even planning on telling you about Forks."

His statement confuses me. If he wasn't going to tell me about Forks, what the fuck did he have to say that would ruin my perfect day?

"But there is really no reason _not_ to tell you," he says to himself, before looking back at me. Obviously he has made a decision, and I brace myself for what he has to say. "Despite my frequent and vocal reminders to my family that I have a girlfriend who makes me very happy," I roll my eyes at this but he presses on without comment, "My grandpa actually tried to set me up with someone this Christmas."

Resisting the urge to punch him and quelling my ridiculous jealousy, I take a deep breath. "How is that even possible?" I ask, so calm I even impress myself. "You were gone for a total of six days. Who does your grandpa even know in Washington to set you up with?"

"Well, that's the worst part. He brought along this girl, Rachel, to join us for the holidays. I still don't really get what her story is or how she knows my family, but the bottom line is she was going to be alone so Grandpa Cullen paid for her ticket to join our family. I didn't even get that the whole thing was a set up until like day three when she had too much eggnog and was all over me. My mom was pissed."

"There is so much wrong with what you just said, I don't even know where to begin," I hiss out, fisting my hands in the sheets in my anger. "She stayed at your house? She tried to kiss you? What the fuck? Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?"

"Please, Bella. Don't blow this out of proportion. Nothing happened. The most disturbing part to me is my extended family's complete disregard for my feelings and wishes. My whole life, I've done exactly what was expected of me. Got good grades, got into a good school, am studying to be a doctor. But they can't get their hands on my love life. This is mine. And I choose you."

"They don't think I'm good enough," I state. Edward winces, but doesn't deny the accuracy of my words.

"They want the perfect little debutante with familial connections and old money. Somehow, both Alice and Emmett are succeeding on that front, and they are trying to force me into that life too."

"They're right, Edward," I murmur, feeling a little dazed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Bella," he scoffs. "I want you. I choose you. I need you."

"But you shouldn't. God. How long have I been saying that I'm no good for you? That someone out there is capable of giving you everything you want, but instead you are wasting your time on me. You deserve a real girlfriend," I shout, unhappy because I know without doubt that my words are true. And I hate it.

"You could be my girlfriend," he suggests hopefully.

"No, I can't," I say with finality as his face falls. "Really, Edward. I don't know why you put up with me. You should find yourself a nice, emotionally stable girl who will date you. And then marry you. And then have a whole bunch of babies with you."

"Is that what you want?" he whispers.

I stay silent for a long time. This is a golden opportunity. If I tell him I'm unhappy, he'll let me go and we both might come out unscathed. It would be the right thing to do. The good thing to do. I should let him go, because he is incapable of seeing our relationship clearly, but I can't. I'm too selfish. I want him too much.

"No," I reply, sounding pissed about it.

He grins and crawls up my body, resting with his hands on either side of my head. I open my legs to accommodate his pelvis, and rest my feet on the back of his calves.

"Isabella," he says quietly, forcing me to look at him with his hand on my chin. "We have been sleeping together regularly for how long? A year and a half?"

I nod, look at him warily.

"Do you want to stop?"

I shake my head adamantly.

"Do you like the way things are? Are you happy?"

I slowly nod again.

"Good." He kisses me soundly on the lips before sitting up, and pulling me with him. I settle into his lap, my legs resting on either side of his thighs. "I don't want to change anything either, so it doesn't have to."

"But your family—"

"Can't tell me what to do anymore," he says, interrupting me. "Plus that's just my extended family. My parents and my siblings just want me to be happy. And you make me happy."

He makes me happy too, but I would never admit this unpleasant fact out loud.

"Just… You have to… Just promise me that if… if you want to date someone… for real… you will. You won't let me stop you, hold you back," I stutter. The thought of him with someone else makes me sick, but I say it anyway because I really do want him to be happy in the long run. I may make him happy now, but it won't last forever.

"Bella—"

"I'm serious, Edward," I say, sitting away from him and shaking him slightly to convey my seriousness. "Please. Just promise me."

He studies me intently for a long, tense moment before sighing heavily and nodding once. "Fine. I promise if I ever want another girl, I'll date her."

I let out my own sigh, this one in relief. His promise appeases some of my guilt for being selfish enough to try to keep him at all. Even if it's just for a little while. "Thank you," I murmur into his neck, stroking his hair as he rocks me slightly.

"But I still think of you as my girlfriend. You are my girlfriend," he says. I just sigh, choosing not to respond. This is another fight I am tired of having.

This perfect day just got real scary real quick, and the tension slowly leaves my body as I relax back into Edward. For now, he's still mine. For now, he is right here. But then I remember that Forks isn't even what he originally wanted to talk about, and my stomach knots again.

Regretfully, I crawl out of his lap and wrap the sheet around my body again.

"What did you want to talk about?" I ask, even though I feel like I'm better off not knowing.

"Oh. Right. That." His reply is gruff.

"What, Edward?" I encourage.

"Well… I know you're not going to like it. But I wanted to talk to you about James."

Aw, shit.

"Aw, shit," I mutter rubbing my palms over my face as I prepare myself for what's coming.

"He said some things last night that really bugged me," he says, frowning.

"Oh?" I ask, trying to sound innocent.

"Yeah. We got in that fight around two years ago but he said it has been a year and a half since you've seen him. And then he referred to all those memories, like you spent a considerable amount of time with him, not just the one night. And then, most telling if you ask me, that last thing he yelled about being a real man just did not sit well with me at all." He has officially gone into science, fact-presenting mode. He is using the fucking scientific process on me. Edward does this to distance himself emotionally from the unpleasant, and I can't even call him on it, because I do the same thing all the goddamn time. Avoidance. We are damn good at it.

"Alright. I guess its time I came clean about this shit," I say with great reluctance. Edward face pales, and all that guilt is back. Maybe after this he will finally go find the good girl. "The summer after freshmen year, right after we fucked for the first time? Remember?"

"Oh course I remember, Isabella," he murmurs, taking my hand. "Its one of the best days of my life."

I smile and blush because I honestly feel the same way.

"Anyway. Right after you went home for the summer I may or may not have spent a couple weeks hanging out with James," I confess in a rush, as if somehow hearing the words super fast will make them less painful.

"Oh really?" he says, yanking his hand away from mine, crossing his arms over his chest, and leaning back against the headboard. "And what exactly did you two do?"

"Mostly we partied. Got hamered and high. And I'll be honest with you, we did fool around a bit." Edward looks livid and I quickly continue in an attempt to calm him down. "But no sex! I promise you there was no sex. Truth be told, and I'm not exactly proud of this, I haven't been with anyone since you."

"Since me?" he asks, looking hopeful now.

"Yeah, since out first time way back when we were freshies. It's only been you," I say, crawling into his lap again.

"Really?" he asks, sounding so young and looking so adorably innocent.

"Really," I assure him as I wrap my arms around his neck. "And even before that, I only ever really wanted you. When I was sleeping around and being a bitch to you, I wanted you. When you were with Kate, goddamn did I want you. Every moment we were in the library, I wanted nothing more than to fuck you right there. It just about drove me crazy."

I don't know where I'm finding all this strength to be so forthcoming. Usually, I keep the emotional shit on lock, buried down so deep I forget it exists at all. But I can't do that with Edward. He probably guessed all this anyway. I'm simply providing the evidence for a well thought out hypothesis.

"But then you caved," he says, beaming at me now. All the discomfort in my confession was worth it to see him like this. "You stopped fighting me."

"And what a good decision that was. Well, it actually wasn't even really a decision. More like an all powering need for your cock."

He rolls his eyes at this but a smirk plays around his lips.

"I am a real man," he insists, somewhat petulantly.

"Don't need to tell me that, baby," I whisper against his lips. "You prove it me all the damn time."

"Actually," he says, kissing the side of my neck and rolling his hips. "I think have some proving to do right now."

And then he does.

* * *

**So are they adorable? Or is this just the calm before the storm? Still hatin' on Bella? Or are we finally warming up to her? How much do you wish you had a Waldo of your own? Or a cranky Edward in your bed?**

**Thanks for reading! Please share your thoughts!**

**On side note, many reviews are the best form of writing motivation. Just sayin.**


	19. The Dearly Beloved

**So for those you who were patiently (or impatiently) awaiting this chapter, you are in luck! There were massive delays for my flight into Melbourne, so I had an obscene amount of time waiting in the Atlanta airport to finish his chapie. **

**Now, I was going to reread it a couple more times, but I am a bit tispey and everyone has gone to bed, so here it is. Chapter 19. And I know, I know. The present is not as long as you want it to be, but I promise next chapter, there is a lot of it. The past here is mostly fluff so skip it if you so desire. (but you willl miss someone's wedding and I won't say who.) **

**Right. So here is chapter 19. And I would really love for you to review. I like to know what my readers think about the story and truely believe that critisim (or even a little bit-o-praise) makes me a better writer. **

**So sock it to me.**

**Let me have it.**

**Hurt me.**

**I can take it.**

**Did I mention that I've had too much to drink and I don't own anything Twilight? Well I have and I don't. And I don't own shit except an itsy bitsy teeney weeney bikini. And hopefully a tan in the neat future. **

* * *

December 23, 2010

BPOV

As usual, I wake before Edward. I'm always up early; he would sleep all day if he could. I smile down at him and kiss both his eyelids before carefully climbing out of bed. Edward grumbles in his sleep as I break our contact, and I smile again.

I pull on a pair of blue thigh high socks and a favorite grey cardigan of Edward's over my t-shirt before padding down stairs with a legitimate spring in my step.

Things are looking up. Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it.

Typically, I'm the first one up and therefore make the coffee. But the dark liquid is already brewing when I reach for the pot. I stare at it, puzzled, before someone clears their throat at the kitchen table. I turn around, sliding with my socks on the wooden floors.

My mouth falls open in shock when I see Tia sitting at the kitchen table with the morning paper spread out in front of her. If I didn't spend the night with Edward, I would have been highly suspicious.

"I see you didn't make it home," I say, breaking the silence but not easing the tension.

"Likewise," she replies, the judgment apparently displayed on her nauseatingly perfect face.

"Actually," I say, sauntering over to the table and pulling out the chair across from her. I prop my feet up on the table, cool as a motherfuckin' cucumber. "I live here."

"Oh really?" she asks. I can tell she doesn't believe me.

"Yup. Alice is renting me Edward's old room."

"I see," she murmurs, turning her sad face back to the paper. Her eyes stay fixed on one spot, so I know she isn't actually reading. I feel a little bad for her. I know from experience that a life without Edward fucking blows. "But you left him."

"Yeah..."

"How could you do that to him?"

"Listen, chica," I say, pissed now. "I don't fucking know you, and you're obviously in love with my man. Why in the fuck would I tell you all my deep dark secrets?"

Tia shrugs. "We kissed once, you know." I see red and want to strangle the bitch, but my face remains impassive. I promised Alice there would be no punching of Tia at the party. But technically the party ended hours ago. "A year ago during our first semester. We had a little too much to drink. But he stopped before things could progress. Said he didn't want to lose me as a friend and couldn't do a relationship because he had been recently been burned by some heartless bitch."

It's my turn to look away. I doubt Edward used those exact words, but it stings anyway.

"It's complicated, with Edward and I," I say.

"So I gathered."

"I hate myself for hurting him."

"I would imagine."

"He's my everything."

"Yet you left him."

"Listen, cocksucker," I say, livid at this point. "You didn't even know I existed until yesterday. You don't know shit about me or my past with Edward so you have no right to judge. I know in your head you probably convinced yourself that he loves you back, but you're wrong. He loves me, and I won't take that for granted again."

"I can't picture it," she says quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Edward with a girl. In a relationship. And if I had to it would be with someone like…"

"Someone like you," I finish for her. As upsetting as it is, it doesn't make sense for Edward to be with me. He should be with someone who shares his interests and goals and ambition. I've been saying this for years and it's probably the next fucking issue I'll be forced to deal with when I start going back to therapy. Something to look forward to.

Tia smiles sadly before continuing. "It's just… You've got this whole hip, grungy, delinquent thing going on. I mean, you have facial piercings for goodness sakes!" I roll my eyes. It is one simple nose ring, not a gaged lip or some shit. And I've heard this a million times. What can I say? Opposites attract. "And is he so conservative and kind, smart. You are so unlike him."

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" I reply with a humorless chuckle. "You don't know me at all. Do you know where Edward and I had our first real conversation? Fucking Biology class. You know where we really got to know each other? The goddamn library. I hate to break it to you, my darling Tia, but I'm fucking smart. I graduated a semester early with two majors and a three eight GPA. And I know I don't make the wisest decisions, but I'm not some bimbo. And it's not just the mind blowing sex," she winces and I am a horrible person because her pain makes me happy, "we connect. He's my Edward and I'm his Bella. We're Edward and Bella. That's who we are. We are good together, despite the mistakes I made."

I don't know where this is coming from. Maybe its because I feel unbelievably threatened both because she's gorgeous and because she really is the kind of woman Edward should be with. This is why I'm in therapy. I need to over come all these self-loathing issues before I can ever really be in a healthy relationship with Edward.

But for now, I need Tia to get a clear picture of us.

"That may be, but I know Edward," Tia insists, glaring at me and slamming her paper down on the table. "And that drunken, crude mess he was last night is not right! Edward is polished and perfect. He's always in control and sure of his path. You turn him into something he's not. Getting drunk and talking so loudly about things that should be kept private."

Tia is obviously scandalized, and I try not to laugh at her again. She really has no idea. I would pay good money to see the look on her face when she heard about the library BJ. Or the very loud bathroom sex. Or getting caught in various compromising positions by our roommates. Or when he introduced a video camera into our bedroom. Edward is not a saint. He's probably always been the picture of polite perfection to Tia, but that isn't who he really is. He teases me mercilessly and likes to go on adventures.

I'm tempted to tell her, but I'm working really hard on being the kind of person that deserves Edward so I take the high road.

"I think you're wrong," I state simply.

"Pardon?" she asks, looking confused.

"Well, not totally wrong. The boy is perfect," I muse. "But that polished, controlled, focused robot you think you know? Yeah, that's what Edward looks like bored out of his mind."

"You're ridiculous," Tia scoffs.

"I'm not. You've known him for what? A year and a half? Less than two years. And I promise you, they were two very weird years because I know I hurt him. I know that he has probably been zombie-ing around since I left."

Tia snorts unattractively. "It's a little self involved to say that, don't you think? To claim to have had such a drastic effect on his life and happiness?"

"No," I reply without pause. "I know that because I was the same way. Edward distracts himself from all that pain by throwing himself into school. My methods involve a whole lot of drugs, but the ultimate result is the same. Escape."

"I don't believe you," Tia whispers. "I know him."

This conversation is getting away from me, but I can't help but respond.

"Did you know that Edward loves literature? He's as well read as me. Did you know he plays the piano and loves to salsa dance? Did you know that his favorite food is Ethiopian? That he's hiked almost every fourteener in the state and that he likes to climb trees when he's feeling sad. He drinks whiskey, scotch when it's available, wine when it's not, and jogs like a blizzalion miles when he gets stressed. Did you know any of that?"

I can tell by the look her face that she is blown away by all this information.

"Don't feel bad. He really is a very private person," I continue.

"That's all very trivial, don't you think?" she finally says in response.

And just like that, I feel better. Edward is not destined to be with Tia. She doesn't even care about the stuff that makes Edward Edward. Tia just sees the academic, soon to be a fuck awesome surgeon Edward. She remains blind to his warrior side, his aggressive, possessive tendencies, and the part of him that is really just a mischievous little boy. She doesn't get the whole package. I do.

"I certainly don't think so," I reply, suddenly exhausted by this conversation. I rise from the table.

"Whatever you say, Isabella. But you better be one hundred percent positive that you aren't going to hurt him again, because I _do_ know Edward and he wont survive this time."

"Neither would I," I reply before departing. "And its just fucking Bella!"

I need Edward back in my arms

* * *

May 2, 2008

"There you are," I sigh out in relief when I see Edward bent over his desk. Papers and textbooks cover every part of the large surface. He doesn't turn when I enter the room, but I know he hears me because he nods his head slightly.

It's a week before finals, so of course his head is in a book. Every semester is the same. Finals happen, and I lose my… whatever the hell Edward is to me until he finishes his last test. And although finals are stressful for everyone, Edward really freaks out. He's hell bent to get perfect grades so he spends more time doing sciency crap than does fucking me.

Unfortunately.

"I looked in the library after I got out of my last class," I say, kicking off my Birks in the closet. "That fucking place is already packed. I hate people who only go to the library during finals. I think library regulars should get priority seating. There were two sorority bitches in our spot!"

Edward grunts in response. I sigh in frustration.

"But at least today was the last day of classes," I say, plopping down on his lap. He cranes his neck to see around me, his eyes never leaving his notes. "A couple more tests, and we are done with junior year."

"Four tests," he corrects, still not paying any attention to me. "First one is tomorrow. Anatomy."

"Anatomy," I say, keeping my voice low and raspy. I wrap my arms around him and nip at his jaw. His heartbeat picks up under my palm. Though his face doesn't move, I know my proximity still affects him.

He nods and flips through the book in front of him.

"If I recall," I continue, bringing my face closer to his. "You are very," I kiss the corner of his mouth, "very," I kiss the point of his chin, "very," I kiss his now slightly upturned lips, "very good at anatomy. Do you want to apply all this practically?" I nip at his ear and run my hands over his chest as I waggle my eyebrows at him suggestively.

I'm a motherfucking pro at distracting Edward from his studies. It probably means I'm a bad influence, but his grades have yet to suffer. Dude has never gotten anything lower than an A minus thus far in his college career. Loser.

Though I must admit, I will be thrilled when whatever crazy advanced anatomy class he is taking this year is over. Despite all the innuendo opportunity the class provides, mostly it just serves to stress Edward out, and I don't like it.

"Bella…" he whines. "My Anatomy final is tomorrow evening. I need to study."

"How long have you been sitting here?"

"Dunno, since I got home from my last class," he replies, still more focused on his schoolwork than me.

"That was like five hours ago," I admonish, burrowing into his neck. I nibble on his skin, pleased when he shutters slightly. "You need a break."

"Not going to happen, love," he replies. My lips immediately still on his neck, and I jerk away from him in irritation. I cross my arms over my chest.

"What is the fucking point of having a boyfriend if he won't even practice anatomy with me," I say petulantly.

My childish mini rant gets his attention, and his face snaps towards me while his pen clatters from his hand. Score!

"Boyfriend, huh?" he asks, smirking at me and bringing his arms around my waist.

My mouth falls open in shock while my eyes bug out of my head. Did I really just say that?

"I didn't… uh… that wasn't… I don't know what you're talking about," I tell him.

"Yes, you so totally just called me your boyfriend," he says, gloating.

I'm still a little too shocked to really respond like a normal person. Edward has been referring to me as his girlfriend since Renee left last fall. The lingo must be rubbing off on me. It was a slip of the tongue, that's all. I don't see Edward like that. I don't consider him my boyfriend because I don't do boyfriends.

Right?

Right.

"I have no fucking clue why I said that," I defend lamely. "I must have meant boyfriend in the metaphorical sense. Not the literal sense."

He just smirks at me knowingly. I hate that he looks so self satisfied. The whole altercation pisses me off. He won't fuck me. He's making me say stupid shit.

I attempt to remove myself from his lap, but he holds me firmly against him.

"Edward," I snap, wanting to be alone. "Lemme go."

He tilts my face towards his with his fingers on my chin, and kisses me thoroughly. I relax into his warm body, and sigh against his lips. My hands find their way into his silky hair as his palms cradle my face. Kissing Edward is my favorite activity. He somehow manages to erase all negative thoughts and emotions from all of me. I get lost, when he kisses me, in a perfect world that's all beauty and wonder and light.

And Edward.

But all too soon, he pulls away. I whimper a little at the loss of contact. He keeps his hands on my face, and I rest my forehead against his.

"You're beautiful," he says, running a thumb over my lips and drinking me up with his eyes. "Have I told you that recently?"

"Yes, all the fucking time, you ridiculous dork." I brush off his complements, but I blush anyway.

"You really think I need a break?" he asks, running a hand through his hair.

I give him a scathing look that clearly says, "obviously, moron".

"I think I have a better idea," he says with my favorite crooked smile. "Why don't you help me study?"

"Help you?" I scoff. "I can't even pronounce most parts of the fucking body! I'll just confuse the shit out of you."

"This doesn't require you to speak at all."

"Bella, lie still, damn it!" Edward reprimands, from the general vicinity of my right foot.

"I can't!" I reply with a giggle, really trying very hard to do as instructed.

"Who knew? Bella Swan is ticklish," he says in apparent wonder.

"Just shut up and label me," I mutter as he ducks his head back to his work.

I lay out on Edward's neatly made bed in only a black bra and matching pair of boy-short panties, attempting to lie still as Edward scribbles away on me. His fingertips trace my bones shortly followed by the tip of his black marker as it labels my skin: bones, muscles, ligaments.

Hip bones connected to the thigh bone. Except more scientific.

I like being able to help Edward, even if it just means being his life-size science dummy.

Leaning up on my elbows, I get a better look at Edward working away on my leg. He stripped down to his boxers because I didn't want to be the only one in their undie-pants. Narrow glasses with dark frames rest on his straight nose, and his brow furrows in concentration as he conjures crazy complicated names from his massive brain. I smile at the adorable way he mutters to himself under his breath.

It's a slow burn. He's only done part of one leg, and already that familiar sexual tension is coiling in my belly. One motherfucking leg.

"Is this really going to help you remember?" I ask quietly as I lay back and close my eyes, reveling in the feel of his fingers and the felt tip of his marker.

"Yes," he says with a chuckle. "I already have an image of your body burned into the back of my eyelids. Adding words to something I know better than myself will definitely help."

"You're gonna want to fuck me so bad when you get out of that test," I reply, a smile playing around my mouth.

Edward laughs, planting a kiss on the inside on my calf before moving up to my knee. "I live in a perpetual state of wanting to fuck you," he admits softly, writing on my knee.

I fucking love it when Edward curses, and my body shudders a little as I try to put a cap on my need.

"Don't move," he reminds me with a whisper.

He makes slow progress, inching up my body. Sometimes, he has me lift a limb to get at some probably ticklish crevasse. Edward works in silence for the most part, just muttering unintelligibly under his breath. Occasionally he shares with me a particularly miraculous fact about a particularly miraculous part of the human body. Every time he leaves a region of my body, he kisses my skin.

By the time he gets to my hipbone, we're both breathing heavily. My legs rest over his shoulders while his hands wrap around my hips from behind. His head rests on my thigh while he marks up my side.

"Bella…" he warns as my hip arch slightly. His voice is strained. "Stay still, love."

"I'm trying," I whine somewhat breathlessly.

He moves his head slightly, and his chin grazes my already throbbing lady parts.

"Oh… fuck!" I hiss, my fingers lacing through his hair again.

"Isabella," he says, sounding equally frustrated. "I'm trying to study down here."

"Oh baby," I reply, tightening my thighs around his neck. "Please study down there. You study down there so good."

"You're ridiculous," he scoffs, crawling up my body and nuzzling my belly.

"This was your stupid idea," I remain him, continuing the run my fingers through his hair behind his ear. I know he likes this. It soothes him. Sometimes I can even get him to fall asleep like this when his brain's going a million miles a minute. He presses his thumb into the indent by my hipbone when we're in bed, and it has the same effect on me.

"It's a great idea," he contradicts, lifting his head and labeling my ribs. "I'm going to dominate this test."

"I better get some sort of reward for this torture. You're graffiting me."

"You're loving it. You're my little work of anatomically labeled art." He kisses my belly button, and I smile, continuing to stroke his hair.

I keep my mouth shut and my needy little whimpering to a minimum to let him finish. I want to help him dominate the anatomy test. So I let him doodle on my arms and hands and even back. I draw the line at the face, though.

Edward will totally get an A. And I receive multiple orgasms for my efforts.

An hour later, Alice orders us all to family dinner.

"What the fuck happened to you two?" Alice demands when we take our seats at the kitchen table. It's equally covered with papers and binders as Edward's desk, but it's a whole lot less academic.

Over Christmas break, Alice went with Jasper to Texas for several and somehow came back with a huge engagement ring. No one was terribly surprised, except Jasper himself who still seems a little shocked that Alice managed to wrangle a proposal from him.

They were getting married in June.

I can't fucking wait, because all this wedding shit is driving me insane. Alice, not able to decide who she likes better, declared Rose and I co-maids of honor. Rosalie hates the duties as much as I do, but we suffer though for our favorite little pixie. And at least we have each other.

I can't pinpoint the exact moment Rose and I became friends again, but I'm relieved to have Rosalie back in my life, even if we still fight like an old married couple.

"We were studying, Ali," Edward explains, having no idea that he has black marker smudges on his face, neck, arms, and hands. I'm equally messy, and I giggle at Alice's incredulous expression.

"Is that what the kids are callin' it these days?" Jasper asks. I didn't even notice him hidden behind a large stack of bridal magazines and Alice's four-inch thick wedding planner at the far end of the table.

"Edward's going to get an A plus," I say, leaning over to nuzzle into his neck causing him to smirk. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"I really think you should take anatomy, love," he replies, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "You're quiet good at it yourself."

"Shut the fuck up," Rosalie says, entering the kitchen from her bedroom. "You're going to make me puke all over Alice's wedding crap."

"I will murder you in your sleep and chop you up into indiscernible little pieces if you get any bodily fluids anywhere near my wedding plans. And its not crap. I should kill you for that statement alone." Alice is seething. She is the only one, besides Emmett, that doesn't get pissed at Rose on a regular basis so I find the interaction quite entertaining.

Rosalie's eyes go wide and she immediately sits down and shuts up as Alice glares at her.

I snort in pleasure, but try to pass my laughter off as a cough. No one is fooled and Rosalie aims a kick at me under the table. I pull my legs up underneath me and scoot closer to Edward, who pulls me into his chest protectively.

He smells so good, and I notice a little black smear behind his ear. How did that happen? I see Waldo snake around Edward's ankles, and I bring him into my lap in an attempt to distract myself from my lusty thoughts.

Shockingly, it doesn't work.

"I was told there would be dinner," I put in from the general vicinity of Edward's chest. "We have studying to do."

"From the look of your hair you have already done plenty of studyin'," says Jasper helpfully.

"What the fuck is that black stuff?" Rosalie demands.

"Alice, I have Anatomy tomorrow. I thought you said this was a quick dinner. Have you even started cooking? Why are you even cooking? You can't cook," Edward rambles next to me. I bring my face close to Waldo's, making him go even more cross-eyed as he attempts to keep eye contact. I feel an argument brewing, and would rather be petting the kit-cat than fighting.

"Yeah, you're probably going to end up poisoning us all. Remember that brown crap six months ago that was supposed to be some sort of cheese dish?" Rosalie asks.

"Cookin' is the one thing you can't really do, darlin'," says Jasper

"Will you all shut the fuck up?" Alice screeches in full on flip out mode. Waldo lets out a little hiss and runs off to hide under the couch. Baby. "I sent Emmett for take-out. And while we wait, I figured we could go over wedding stuff."

There is a massive outcry against this, but I keep quiet and observe.

"Anatomy, Alice! Anatomy!"

"No fucking way! If I have to look at one more shade of eggshell white my brain is going to explode!"

"Honey, you promised no more wedding stuff until after finals."

"ENOUGH!" Alice screams, looking downright homicidal. "The wedding is in a little over the month. Can you all just stop being so selfish and focus on me!"

This set off a whole new round of protests, and I giggle at the chaos surrounding me. I really like this bunch of freaks.

Emmett enters the kitchen at just the right time, arms laden with bags of Thai food. His jovial laugh and the scent of dinner he brings with him immediately defuses the situation. Everyone is a whole lot happier with food in front of them, and Alice seizes the opportunity to talk to us about the wedding.

Come June we, along with two-hundred of Alice and Jasper's closest friends and family, we will be driving up to Estas Park. Although I'm not thrilled about my co-maid of honor duties, I love Rocky Mountain National Park. It's all craggy mountains and dense forests and winding rivers. Oh and elk. Lots of elk. I love me a good elk.

Despite my approval of Alice's wedding location, I can't even imagine her decision to bind her life to another's. For fucking ever. And though a lot of people have doubts because they are so young, I have doubts about the whole institution of marriage.

Though I am fucking happy for my former roommate.

"Okay, now that all you assholes have food on your fucking plates, you will all listen to me for five fucking minutes." Alice jabs her fork at everyone around the table, and we nod with our mouths full of Pad Thai.

Alice babbles at us about dress fittings and cake tastings and flower selections. She promises not to force us to do anything until finals are over next week, but she gets this scary look in her eye when she tells us that we'll be making up for this "break" by working extra hard.

Right. Because finals are such a nice, relaxing break.

We're dismissed after twenty minutes, and we all retire to our various quiet locations to study. Edward goes back to his desk, and I sit on his bed, finishing a final paper for one of my lit classes. It's nice being here with him.

I finish working around two AM, and crawl under the covers. Edward turns off the overheard, despite my protests, but keeps working under the sole light on his desk. I drift off to sleep, watching Edward's face as his giant brain absorbs everything it can before his test tomorrow.

It's hours before Edward comes to bed, and I don't really fall asleep until he pulls me into his arms.

"Holy Toledo," Alice says, gaping at me in apparent shock as I step out from behind the pale pink curtain that forms a dressing room.

"Is it really that bad?" I ask, feeling totally out of my comfort zone.

"Holy Toledo, indeed," Rosalie echoes, emerging from her own dressing room and staring at me.

"What? Fine. I'll just not be in the wedding party. I don't want to muck up your wedding photos with my general fuglyness," I say, flustered as I retreat to the dressing room. I like it in there. No one can see me.

"No!" Alice yells, leaping over a crème colored lounge chair to grab my arm. "Come here, Izzy."

"Izzy?" I say in distaste at the nickname as I let her drag me towards the floor length mirror. "Izzy? Do I fucking look like a fucking Izzy to you? No one's called me that since I was a fucking child—"

"Shut it," Alice scolds. "Look at yourself."

I glance at the mirror, and jump a little at the image of myself in a full length, royal blue dress. It's strapless and silky and makes my pale skin glow.

"Shit," I say.

"I fucking know, right," Rosalie says, joining me in the mirror in a matching dress. "Bella actually looks like a girl."

Alice reaches up on her tip toes to remove my hair from the messy bun on the top of my head. She fusses with it until she's pleased with the way it falls around my shoulders.

"Bella looks beautiful," Alice whispers reverently.

"I look like a grown up," I murmur, embarrassingly enraptured with my appearance.

"We are grown ups," Rosalie says, sounding equally in awe.

Alice puts her arms around my waist and Rose's, and we spend a moment admiring ourselves in the mirror. We stand there, smiling and thinking.

"We fucking better be," Alice says suddenly, her arm tightening on my waist. "I'm fucking getting married."

"You're fucking getting married," I repeat with a smile.

"You're fucking getting married," says Rosalie, squealing slightly.

"I'M FUCKING GETTING MARRIED!" Alice bellows.

The next thing I know the three of us are dancing around in a circle, repeating this mantra over and over again, smiling and giggling and generally acting like a bunch of moronic, hormonal teenage idiots.

It's almost like an out of body experience. Before Alice, I never really had girlfriends except for Rosalie. And when it was just the two of us, we rarely acted like… well girls. Rosalie and I ran around with a pack of boys, so we never did girly stuff like this.

Of course then in 10th grade Rosalie got boobs and joined the cheerleading squad and thought I slept with her boyfriend. Nothing was the same after that.

And even more shocking than getting excited about Alice's wedding, is that I'm enjoying it. I'm enjoying girlfriends and being a girl.

So I twirl and laugh and scream about Alice fucking getting married.

"Well," says a stern yet amused voice behind us. "I suppose this little display shouldn't surprise me. What a welcome to Colorado."

We all freeze with our arms thrown around each other and stare at the newcomer.

"MOMMY!" Alice shrieks before taking off and almost tackling the caramel-haired beauty lingering in the entryway, standing by a rather bemused looking sales person. Esme laughs and rains kisses down on Alice's face as her daughter continues to squeak.

Rosalie and I loiter awkwardly by the mirrors in our bridesmaid dresses. Esme scares the fuck out of both of us, which is unusual for the pair of us. We are strong women. We always have been, strong and independent and somewhat stubborn. It's the reason we were such good friends long ago, and why it took us so long to repair said friendship.

The elegant, classy Esme Cullen makes us want to piss our collective pants.

She doesn't think we're good enough for her sons. In my case, she's right.

"Hello, Rosalie," Esme says as she approaches us. She keeps her arm around her daughter, and I hate how being around Esme makes me miss Renee. "Bella." Her voice is colder when she addresses me, and I wince. She's remembering how I abandoned her son in Forks last summer.

I haven't seen her since she made me dinner and we bonded over our love of literature.

"Hello, Mrs. Cullen," I murmur, suddenly entranced with the hem of my dress.

Rosalie repeats my words.

"Please, I've told you both a thousand times to call me Esme."

"Esme then," Rosalie responds with a smile while I stand there like an awkward mute.

"And the only reason I'm not lecturing you about profanity usage in public is because your fucking getting married in two weeks," Esme says with a crooked smile that's shockingly similar to her son's.

"I know!" Alice says, beaming.

"You girls just look gorgeous," she says smiling and squeezing each of our hands.

"Thank you," we reply in unison.

"So how was your flight, Mom?" Alice asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Long but fine. I'm so happy to be here with you. I can't believe my little girl is getting married. I always thought Emmett would be first," Esme muses, causing Rosalie to pale and sway slightly at my side. "You're father is freaking out by the way. Not that he doesn't love Jasper, it's just that you are so young and his only little girl is a woman now. But I'm sure he'll tell you all about that when he gets here next week. We just love you so much, baby girl."

"Oh, Mommy!" Alice hugs Esme and starts crying somewhat hysterically. Again, Rose and I shuffle our feet awkwardly, feeling like we are intruding on a private mother-daughter moment. Rosalie's mother is a rich hippie doctor, more concerned with saving the kids of foreign lands then paying attention to her own. Neither of us are so good with the mothers, so we don't even know how to watch a healthy mother daughter relationship.

"Uh," I say, grabbing Rosalie's elbow as the emotion in the boutique makes me so uncomfortable, I need to get away. "We're gonna change."

"Shit, Esme terrifies me. Even when she's being super nice, I feel like she just knows about all the dirty stuff I've done with her son," Rosalie hisses as she pulls the zipper of my dress down my back. She grabbed her clothes out of her own dressing room to join me in mine so we could have a little powwow.

"I fucking know right!" I reply, carefully stepping out of my dress and unzipping Rose's identical gown. "And she double hates me for that leaving stunt I pulled last summer."

"Yeah. That was stupid."

"I'm well aware," I snap, pulling my denim shorts over my hips after I hang my dress.

"Is it weird that I wish my boyfriend's mom was my mom? Because that would make all the great sex I have with the man totally gross and illegal. But I really wish Esme was my mom," Rosalie whispers as she too gets dressed.

"Yeah, you are fucking freaky, Rosalie Lillian."

She laughs and I smile. I have similar secret desires, but I have no inclination to share that thought with my friend. I pull on a tie-dye tank top and slip my feet into my worn Briks, wishing I had remembered Esme was coming in today. I would have dressed nicer.

When we emerge from behind the pale pink curtain – I'm learning that everything wedding oriented is pale pink or eggshell or other pansy-ass colors – Esme and Alice sit on the lounge. They both seem composed and hold Champaign flutes in their hands, but their eyes are red.

"So," Esme says when Rosalie and I sit across from them on an equally fancy loveseat. "Enough with this small talk. I want to see the dress."

She waves over the sales lady who hands Rose and I flutes identical to Alice and Esme's. Again, I wish I'd dressed a little more appropriately. What was I thinking? Tie fucking dye. I feel like I'm twelve.

"So girls," Esme says when Alice leaves to change. "How did finals go?"

"Pretty good," Rosalie replies. I'm glad she's here. My silence is acceptable as long as my friend speaks. "It's hard to believe that I'm all done."

"Oh, that's right," Esme says. "You graduated this semester! Congrats. I forget because Emmett is still working on his masters. You're interning at an engineering firm, right?"

"Yes, I start in June. Right after the wedding," Rose replies, looking beautiful and confidant.

Fucking tie-dye.

"Congratulations. Welcome to the real world," Esme says with a smile.

"Not quite yet," Rosalie chuckles. "I still have a couple weeks off."

"And what about you, Bella?" Esme asks.

Shit. She's directly addressing me. That means I have to speak.

"Well, I still don't have all my grades back but I think I did really well," I reply quietly.

"Big plans for after graduation?" she asks. "You're studying English, right?"

"Literature and Creative Writing," I say, nodding. I finish off the liquid remaining in my glass with one gulp. "But I still have no idea what I want to do with myself."

Esme raises an eyebrow at me. We both know I'm not good enough for her talented, on the fast track to super star surgeon-dom son. Not that it matters anyway. He isn't mine. This isn't permanent. But I can't exactly explain to my fuck buddy's mother that we aren't serious.

Alice comes out and thankfully steals the rooms attention. And rightfully so. She's stunning.

"Oh, Alice," Esme says, rising and placing a hand over her heart. Her eyes mist over again as Alice stands on the elevated platform on surround by the three hundred and sixty degree mirrors. "You look… simply radiant."

She really does. Seeing Alice in her wedding dress is really… amazing. She looks perfect.

"Thank, Mom," she replies, smiling knowingly at herself in the mirror.

"The pictures you sent me didn't do it justice, honey," Esme continues, running her fingers over the bead work on the bodice. "It's striking."

And it is. Even I, cynical Isabella Swan must admit that the strapless dress with flowing skirt looks damn good on my little former roommate. Everyone in the room is sniffling as we stand there and stare at Alice. Except me, though I am slightly choked up, which is a big deal for me.

"I'm fucking getting married in a week," Alice whispers, still staring at herself in the mirror.

"Damn right," says Esme.

I sit with the wedding party and family members at the rehearsal dinner. It makes sense, I suppose. My date is a brother/groomsmen and I'm a co-Maid of Honor. But over the salad course, I look over at a different table with longing.

All the college friends sit together at one table across the room. Jake with some blonde he's been dating. Sam and Emily, Garrett and Kate, Angela and Ben. They all laugh hysterically and drink heavily. Lucky sons of bitches.

Everyone at this table thinks Edward is my boyfriend, which is much better than explaining to his scary rich relatives the situation. They think I'm some backwoods hippie gold digger, leading the perfect Edward away from his doctor destiny.

Grandma Cullen looks down her nose at me, and actually sanitized her hands after briefly grasping mine during our introduction. Grandpa Cullen seems to have decided that if he ignores me, I don't have to exist. Uncle Marcus leers at me, and actually tried to pinch my ass while his wife Chelsea looked on in distaste.

The Cullen family approves of Rose and Jasper because of their wealthy and socially connected parents. I don't have anyone, and they see me as the uncultured nobody I am. Its just more proof that I'm unworthy of Edward. Under the scrutiny of his family, I retreat in to myself and stay silent.

Edward, sensing my discomfort, puts an arm around the back of my chair.

"You look beautiful," he whispers in my ear as his fingers play with my hair. I straightened it for the occasion, and Edward is seizing the opportunity to run his hands through the silky strands. "That's one hell of a dress."

I smile and blush, glancing down on at the purple flower print covering my body.

"Wait till you see tomorrow's," I reply, thinking of my blue bridesmaids dress that hangs in the closet of our hotel room upstairs.

He leans toward me, but is interrupted by his mother.

"Edward, really. Why do you insist on leaving your hair so shaggy? It would be a whole lost neater if you just trimmed it up a bit," Esme says from Edward far side.

I scowl down into my over priced linguini and violently stab a shrimp. Every fucking time Esme is around she wants to scalp my boy.

"Come on, Mom," he says, shaking his head. "Leave my hair alone."

"I've missed you, darling," she says with a chuckle, attempting to pat down his hair.

"I've missed you, too," he replies, grinning at her.

"I think you should come home for the summer," she continues. I stifle a growl in my throat, and pretend that the shrimp on my plate is Esme's face. It's weird, hating the same woman I want to also to be my mother.

Then again, I hate my mother so that might fit.

Shit, Freud would probably have a field day with my fucked up psyche.

"Mom, we've talked about this. I'm working at the hospital in Boulder," he says.

"I suppose you're right. And last summer at home really didn't go well for you," she says, her voice turning icy.

I continue to stab my seafood as Edward slides a comforting hand up my thigh under the table.

"What happened to Edward last summer?" Grandma Cullen asks in apparent alarm.

I blush deeply and wish I could melt through my plush dining chair, down, down, down until I reach something I recognized.

"I was just bored," Edward explains in a rush before his mother can say anything to make the family think any less of me. "With Alice and Emmett in Colorado, there just wasn't a lot to do."

"Now, Isabella," says Aunt Chelsea. "Tell me, what do your parents do?"

I clear my throat, surprised to be addressed directly.

"It's Bella," Edward corrects, smiling at me warmly. Edward is comfortable here, among the people he's known his whole life, eating a fancy meal at a fancy wedding reception in a fancy hotel.

I'm so fucking not comfortable.

"Right," Chelsea says with a forced smile. "Bella, then."

"Well, my dad is the Chief of Police in Forks, actually," I say, sounding nothing like myself. My voice wavers and I sound unsure.

"Good man," Carlisle interjects. "Worked with Charlie for years. Plus, he does great things with a pole."

Everyone stops eating to look at Carlisle in puzzlement.

"A fishing pole," he says quickly with an eye roll as everyone laughs. Edward's dad is just so damn adorable.

Conversation changes to the great outdoors, and I try to relax. I'm so fucking far out of my comfort zone at this rehearsal dinner, it's obscene. I wouldn't make it, without Edward there, resting his hand on my bare knee.

"Am I understanding this correctly?" demands Grandpa Cullen. "Alice is already living with Jasper?"

"Yes, Father," Carlisle says warily. "All the kids share a house."

"So my granddaughter lives with her boyfriend, and you are okay with this?"

"She's an adult now, Richard," Esme says, attempting to soothe the older generation. "And she's getting married tomorrow. I think it's serious."

"Well what about Emmett and Rosalie?" he asks, nodding toward the couple across the table. Rose has her adult schmoozing face on. She successfully won over the Cullen relatives through flirtation. Slut. "Are they getting married anytime soon? And what about Edward and this one?"

Rosalie and I share looks of abject horror.

"Edward and Bella don't live together," Esme say in a lame defense.

"Not permanently, anyway," Edward blurts out.

If we were not surround by his Bella-hating family, I would punch his stupid mouth. He is such a mama's boy and never learned the extremely valuable skill of lying to his parents.

"Pardon?" asks Esme.

"Well… um… Bella is living at the house on Goss for the summer," he mutters, looking uncomfortable. I wonder which one of us is redder.

"What?" snap about four different people.

"I'm an RA," I explain quickly. "I live in the dorms during the school year, but they close for the summer, so your children are kind enough to let me stay until I can move back into Hallett Hall in August."

"Are you paying rent?" asks Grandma Cullen.

"Ah, not exactly. I'm paying in the form of dinner makin' and grocery shoppin'." I chuckle awkwardly. Everyone is staring at me.

I don't really speak for the rest of Alice's rehearsal dinner, and escape the moment the dessert dishes are cleared away. Fluctuating between a slow run and a fast walk, I don't stop moving through the throngs of wedding guests until I get outside.

God bless Alice and her decision to get married in the mountains.

Slipping off my heels and removing the bejeweled clip that holds my hair in a half ponytail, I walk across the soft grass towards the babbling brook that runs through the hotel property. It's landscaped to look natural, and I jump from rock to rock along the stream. I find a flat one next to a large pine that provides an almost panoramic view of Rocky Mountain National Park. Sitting and crossing my legs, I sigh in relief. I'm so fucking thankful to be away from the people and the fancy.

The sun is setting and the air is warm, so I dip my aching feet into the cool mountain creek.

"How are you doing?"

I smile as I recognize the voice, scooting over on my rock to make room for him. He sits next to me, and I lay my head on his shoulder.

"Good," I murmur, closing my eyes. "Now."

"I know they are a lot to handle," Edward says, running his hand through my hair again. "But thank you for trying. They are my family and they do mean well."

"They hate me," I reply.

"They hate everyone," he scoffs.

"They don't hate you."

"That's because I've always done exactly as they asked me to do," he replies.

"Until me."

"Yes, until you." He kisses my temple and holds me close.

"Is that why you like me? To rebel from your blue blooded family?" I ask, not liking the idea at all.

"I'm not much of a rebel," he says with a chuckle. "And I love you, Isabella."

I try not to flinch. I've gotten better at not flinching. I used to completely freak when he said it. Once I didn't speak to him for three days, it made me so angry. But he won't stop saying it, and I've gotten tired of fighting him on it. He says he doesn't expect me to say it back, which is good because I can't. I don't feel it. I don't feel anything.

"Have you seen Peter yet?" he asks suddenly after several moments of quiet.

"No, and I'm not fucking looking forward to it," I grumble. "I really hate that motherfucker."

"He's Jasper's best man. And he is actually behaving himself. As long as he stays away from you," Edward replies.

"As long as he isn't a dick to you," I snap back. I've also stop fighting Edward on his over protective tendencies. "Have you seen Mike Newton, my favorite former co-worker?"

"No," Edward replies with a scowl. "I don't even get why he's here."

"He's dating a bridesmaid, Edward. It's not like he flew across the country to use your sister's wedding as an excuse to finally get in my pants."

Edward just growls in response.

"Lighten up, he's behaving himself."

"As long as he stays away from you, too," he grumbles.

"You're ridiculous," I giggle.

"And you're to gorgeous for your own good," he replies.

"Hey! Love birds!" We turn around to Emmett, Rose, Angela, Ben, and Jake approaching our little rock seat. They each have a bottle of alcohol in their hands. "We're gonna go get drunk in that gazebo!" yells Emmett.

Laughing at his typical childlike enthusiasm, we get up and join our friends in the wooden gazebo. It's draped with little white lights, and the effect is otherworldly as the sun dips below the mountains.

"I can't believe I've never been up here before," marvels Ben, taking a long swig of tequila right out of the bottle. "One of the prettiest places in the world is only forty five minutes from where we live, and I've never been here before."

"You're a moron, lover," says an already drunk Angela with a giggle.

"We got here a couple days early," comments Emmett. "Rose and Bella took us on a bunch of badass hikes, way up above tree line. The view was insane! Alice almost had a heart attack."

"She really didn't like being forced into physical activity so close to her special day," Edward explains, accepting a bottle of red wine from Rose. He takes a long drink before handing it to me.

"I can't fucking believe they're getting married," Jake muses, pulling a joint out of his jacket pocket. "We're twenty one! Life is just getting started."

I nod, puffing twice before passing the joint to Rose who is also nodding.

"And they want to spend it together," Edward points out, defending his sister.

"I can see getting married in the near future," Emmett says as Rose blinks at him. "But I never want a fucking wedding. Did you see all those people in there? And all those flowers and shit? Alice has been fucking unbearable to be around for months."

We all nod and continue to drink.

"Where is the happy couple, anyway?" I inquire.

"Inside tending to their guests," says Angela. "It's an odd bunch. You've got the rich Chicagoan doctors," Edward and Emmett raise their bottles in silent salute to their family, "and the oil barons and cattle ranchers from Texas. And then the hippie Boulderite crowd and the small town Forksians."

"And then you've got the cool kids," Jake says. "That would be us."

"Here, here!" Emmett says and we all drink.

"Poor Alice and Jasper," I say as Jake hands me the joint again after it's gone around the circle once. "At my wedding, I only want to hang out with the people I actually like. No huge guest list with people I feel obligated to invite. And no family. Except Charlie. And Phil."

"At your wedding, huh?" Edward asks with a smirk.

"My hypothetical wedding," I say in horror. "Because I'm never fucking getting married."

"That my girl!" Jake shouts, giving me a high five as Edward glares and puts an arm around my waist. Occasionally, they sit get all possessive and metaphorically pee on my leg, but my two favorite boys get along much better than they once did so I grin and bear it.

"Where's your date, Jacob?" Edward asks, attempting yet failing to keep his tone pleasant.

"Dunno," Jake shrugs. "In that hotel somewhere, I guess."

"Jake are such a cocksucker," I say. "What's the point of bringing a date to a wedding if you're just going to abandon the poor girl. What's her name again?"

"Stacy."

Rosalie pretends to vomit. "Isn't that Barbie's younger sister?" she asks.

"Don't be a bitch, Rose," Jake says.

"Stacy's mom has got it going on!" Emmett declares, predictably.

"Why bring a date?" I ask again.

"Sex," replies Jake simply.

"You're a fucking idiot," Emmett says. "Everyone knows that weddings are the best place to pick up chicks! They get all sappy and desperate."

"Pig!" Rosalie says, slapping Emmett across the back of the head.

"Bella brings up a good point, though," Ben says, apparently deep in thought and changing the subject. "I would much rather be hanging out with us right now than a hundred acquaintances at the hotel bar."

Everyone echoes their agreement, and we keep drinking.

Eventually, Sam, Emily, Garrett, Kate, and the elusive Stacy wander out to join the party. More bottles and more weed is passed around. Everyone is downright silly by the time Jasper and Alice find us. I don't even notice them at first because I'm sitting on Edward's lap, smelling his neck.

"How do you do that?" I ask into his skin.

"Do what?" he replies with a goofy grin.

"Smell so good and Edwardy."

"Dunno. Just me I guess."

"Yeah, I guess. I—"

"ISABELLA!" The voice is so terrifying, I almost fall off Edward's lap. "Where the— what the fuck is going on out here?" Alice demands, gaping at the gazebo party.

"Sweet," says Jasper, loosening his tie.

"We're celebrating your wedding!" Emmett booms, almost falling over a railing as Rose giggles hysterically at his side.

"Idiot," mutters Alice. "You all better not be too hung over to look pretty in my wedding photos tomorrow."

"Relax, pixie-dust," says Emmett. "Tomorrow's going to be great."

He engulfs his little sister in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around in a circle. She giggles and hugs him back.

"Okay, okay," she says, stumbling slightly from the dizziness. "But I do believe I'm spending the night with my bridesmaids tonight." Alice is interrupted by a chorus of wolf whistles. "So let's go. I need my beauty sleep."

"Wait," Edward says, pouting as I get off his lap. "You're spending the night with my sister?"

I nod, not much happier about it then he is.

"But who will tend to my needs?" he whines. I smile at him fondly and stroke his hair before leaning down and giving him a lingering kiss.

"Your needs will just have to wait," I say in his ear. "Till tomorrow."

"Tell me I'm doing the right thing," Alice whispers into the dark. She shares a bed with the sleeping Jessica Stanley, her childhood best friend and the third bridesmaid, while I lie next to Rosalie. They are both asleep, and I roll over to get a better look at my friend in the bed opposite.

"Can't tell you that," I reply softly. "Only you can know. But I do know that you know its right. If that makes any sense."

I'm still a bit wasted and not in any shape to be giving pre-wedding advice. Not that I would ever be in great shape for giving pre-wedding advice.

"It does," Alice says with a little giggle. "I really love him."

"I know."

"It's just scary. Everyone thinks we're too young."

"Well, fuck 'em."

"They're right, Bella," she sighs. "We're really, really young."

"So what? Those people don't know you as a couple. They don't know your relationship. You guys are like fucking soul mates," I say.

"You think?"

"Yes, sir. Now go the fuck to sleep. You don't want to look tired in your photos."

"I love you, Bella," she whispers.

"Samesies."

"Look at how happy your sister is." I lean against the bar in the ballroom of a fancy mountain hotel where Alice linked her life forever to Jasper's less than two hours ago. It's the reception now, and I go about the business of getting hamcaked with the rest of my friends.

Edward eyes leave my face to glance at Alice pressed up against her husband of a few hours. Her head rests on Jasper's shoulder, his hand rests on the small of her back. They smile at each other adoringly.

"I can't believe big twin is married," Edward murmurs, shaking his head and sipping on his glass of scotch.

"It suits her," I say, still observing the happy couple. "The whole young bride thing."

"He's good for her," Edward agrees, tucking a strand of my painstakingly curled hair behind my ear. "Alice is… "

"Fuckin' awesome?" I offer when he hesitates.

"Well obviously," he says with a chuckle. "But she's also this bundle of energy and control-freak-ness. He focuses her and she motivates him."

"They're good together," I murmur, moving closer to Edward, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Indeed they are," Edward agrees, kissing my temple. "And you were right."

"Obviously," I say. "I'm always right. 'Bout what this time?"

"This dress totally kicks last night's dress ass," he whispers in my ear, causing me to blush.

"Told you so," I say with a laugh. Ignoring the dirty looks we're receiving from Edward's family, the smirk from Jasper's friend Peter, and the lust looks of Mike Newton and Uncle Marcus, I pull Edward's face to mine. He's just so perfect, how could I not kiss him all the time?

Despite all the people and the scrutiny, the wedding is actually damn fun.

We toast. Rose's toast is better than mine, but Edward's is the best of all. We dance. Edward spins me around, making me feel graceful for once in my life. Alice, Rose, and I dance like crazy people to cheesey 80's songs. We mingle. I even have a good talk with Carlisle and Esme. They seemed to have finally forgiven me for leaving their son in Forks last summer.

I'm pleasantly drunk when the party winds down, and Edward drags me to the elevator.

"Finally," he growls out, pushing me up against a wall the moment the doors close behind us. He kisses me breathless before moving his lips down the column of my neck. "When was the last time we had sex? It's been so long."

"Try like a day and a half," I giggle, running my hands up his back. His enthusiasm makes me smile.

"Feels like forever," he replies, griping my hips and lifting me slightly to get as close as possible. I want to wrap my legs around his hips, but the dress impedes my movement.

We continue to kiss and grope each, and I open my eyes. The walls of the elevator are lined with mirrors, and I watch us in fascination from multiple angles. I've never seen that look on my face before. The one that just exudes happiness and lust and contentment and… other stuff.

The elevator lurches, sending Edward and I sliding into a corner. My boy doesn't seem to notice, and I laugh loudly at the expression of determination on his face.

"What are you laughing about, Miss Swan?" he asks with an answering laugh. He nibbles on my neck, and I giggle again.

"You're just so adorable, it drives me insane," I tell him, pleased when he responds with my favorite crooked smile. He kisses me again, slower this time. Still, I keep my eyes open, watching the mirrors and Edward.

He makes me happy. That's what the mirrors tell me.


	20. Dead Dads Club

**WOW! We got lots of new viewers joining the party from the last chapter, and I must say welcome. Thanks for your kind words. This is one tense fanfic and I am glad there are people out there who enjoy the angst.**

**My vacation was lovely and I am so tan! Thanks for the well wishes.**

**Alrighty, moving right along with this chappie.**

**Leave me some love if you feel so inclined. **

**THANKS FOR READING!**

* * *

December 24, 2010

As I stir from sleep, I immediately become conscious of Bella in my arms. Again. I don't know how I feel about it, but I'm certainly not surprised.

I lay on my stomach, almost completely on top of Bella. My head rests on her chest and her fingers rhythmically run through my hair.

She kisses each of my eyelids, and I sigh in contentment.

"If you bail on me this morning or scream at me, I will seriously hurt you." Her words are harsh but her tone is tender.

"Did we…?" I don't even open my eyes. I just want to stay with Bella like this forever without having to face reality.

"No. That was the direction things were heading in, but then you vomed."

Funny, my mouth doesn't taste like puke. And I feel remarkably good for the amount of alcohol I consumed last night.

"I made you brush your teeth," Bella says as if she can read my mind.

"Thanks, love," I murmur into her hair. Wow. I called her love. Maybe I am still a little drunk.

"I don't think you're friend Tia likes me very much," Bella muses as she continues to run her fingers through my hair. Still, I don't open my eyes. I decide that as long as they remain closed, I can simply be here with Bella without all the complications of our past. "We may have had words this morning."

"Bella," I reprimand, "did you call her a cocksucker?"

"Maybe."

Again, I am going to claim that I'm still a little drunk because I find the thought of Bella being so Bellaish around Tia extremely amusing.

"You kissed her," she murmurs, sounding thoroughly upset.

"Just a quick make out secession," I reply dismissively. "No big deal."

Bella just growls.

"Why do you even bring it up? Are you jealous, Swan?" I tease, still not opening my eyes.

"Of course." I'm a little shocked by her quick and succinct reply. Back in the day, Bella claimed to never get jealous. Why should she? We were just fucking after all. Her extreme anger at every other girl interested in me indicated otherwise. But this calm, sad, admition both startles and pleases me.

"I should have given her some warning," I mutter self depreciatively, changing the subject. I'm not ready to deal with the supposed new Bella yet. The extent of my conversation with Tia comes back to me, and I can't help but feel guilty. I hurt one of my best friends, even if it wasn't intentional. "I just didn't realize the extent of her feelings for me, I suppose."

"She loves you," Bella whispers, pulling me closer.

"I didn't realize. Till last night," I reply, pushing my nose against her neck. She smells so divine.

"Do you love her back?"

I open my eyes and look up at Bella, but her face is blank, and I have no idea what she's thinking. I still her shaking hands with my own.

"No, Isabella," I reply truthfully. Part of me wants to lie. To tell her I love someone else, just to see how she'll react. "We're just friends."

"Good. Because I would have had to slap a hoe," Bella declares, her voice full of humor now.

"Bella…" I admonish. Because I am a terrible person, I'm secretly pleased by Bella's willingness to fight for me.

"Edward. Listen to me. I'm serious about you this time, and I'm going to fight you for another chance, even if I don't deserve it. I can't be without you anymore," she says in earnest.

I internally freak the fuck out. I'm not ready. I can't do this. Sitting up against the headboard, I regret opening my eyes and sigh heavily.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, miserably.

"I just want you," she states simply. Except I've heard this before. I need more, yet at the same time I don't even really want to know.

"Please, Bella," I beg, smacking a hand down on the comforter next to me in frustration. "For once. Just tell me what you are thinking."

She takes a huge breath, and then the words explode from her mouth at an alarming rate.

"I'm thinking that this talk we have can't be one of those poignant, poetic goodbyes where we both leave sad but content," she says, leaping out of bed and pacing in front of me. She looks damn sexy with her bed head and knee high socks. Her movements frantic as she stares at me beseechingly and wrings her hands.

"I can't lose," she continues. "I don't want closure. I can't just leave and accept your rejection, because I won't survive without you. I won't want too. I'm terrified of losing you, Edward, because you have always been my everything. I know I was in denial for a long time. I know I perpetually fucked you around for the better part of four years before taking off. So I'm here, wishing I had an explanation that will make it all better and make everything go away, but I don't. At this point, I'm just praying that what I tell you doesn't make it worse. And I do have things to tell you. Lots of things. I need you to hear them, but I can tell you aren't ready. You have to be... calm when I tell you.

"And, at the same time, in the less logical part of my brain, I'm just so totally relieved to be near you again. I just want to crawl inside you, and fucking attach myself to your organs and make it impossible for anything to separate us ever again. I want to fuck you senseless and make love with you. I want you to hold me and tell me you love me and that everything is going to be alright."

She's panting by the end of rant, and I gape at her in shock.

"Holy shit," is my only reply.

"I know. I told you there is a whole lot of crazy going on in here," she says, tapping her forehead and smiling ruefully. Dragging her feet, she makes her way back over to the bed and drops dramatically on her back next to me.

For whatever reason, I really want to kiss her. And more. The urge to pull her body to mine is overwhelming, and my hands fist in the sheets at my sides. I want to believe everything that she's just says. I want to believe that she is back for real and that she needs me in her life. Yet the three little words I've waited years to hear are still absent.

I fear that whatever she has to tell me will make things worse. I don't know how I could possibly feel worse about her two-year absence, and frankly, I don't want to find out. I can't help but feel that my time with Bella is not going to last, and I want to enjoy her before what ever she has to say makes it worse.

I fear that whatever "worse" is will make it impossible to forgive her. And despite my confusion, I really want to forgive her.

"I think we should just have sex," I blurt suddenly in response, surprising us both. "That's it."

Bella sits up with a jerk and stares at me like I've completely lost it. Which pretty much sums it up, I think.

"What the fuck did you just say to me, Edward Cullen?" she asks when she gathers her composure enough to speak again.

"I don't know. I might still be a bit intoxicated," I mumble, suddenly embarrassed.

Bella giggles like a lunatic before shocking me thoroughly, climbing into my lap and straddling my waist. I'm immediately go from halfway hard to all the way there, and my hands snake their way under my t-shirt that she wears. I rub my thumbs over the dimples just above her ass, and work my way up her spine.

She laughs again before giving me a lazy kiss. I groan into her mouth as her hands do magical things to my nether regions.

"I think I might still be dreaming," she whispers in my ear, nipping at my lobe, "because there is no way Edward Cullen just asked me to be his fuck buddy."

My hands pause with her shirt halfway off her body.

Is that what I'm suggesting?

I suppose it is.

Never would I have thought that I would want to go down this road again, but the idea is horribly appealing. I want her, so bad it's driving me insane. If she could manage to do the emotionless sex thing, so can I. It seems like the only way to deal with having Bella back in my life again. Or maybe it's some fucked up form of revenge; sleeping with her when I'm borderline positive that in the long run I won't be able to forgive her.

All I know for sure is that I'm not ready. I can't hear what she has to say yet. I'm enjoying being in denial.

So I make a rash decision.

I throw off her shirt and flip her over onto her back, pinning her to the mattress with my hips.

"Yes, Isabella," I say with a smirk. "That's exactly what I'm asking."

She takes my face in between her palms and stares at me for an excruciatingly long moment. Her eyes are narrowed at me in suspicion, and I fear that she is about to tell me to fuck off.

"Okay," she says, pulling her face to mine.

For a moment, I think that this is probably a terrible idea, but Bella is right here so I just go with it

I kiss her deeply as I run my hands down her naked torso. I continue to tease her with my mouth on her chest, and my hands narrowing in on the spot between her legs. Right where I know she wants me.

Bella's wool covered feet rest on the back of my naked calfs, a rough contrast to her smooth skin, before she wraps her legs tightly around my hips, grinding herself into my dick. I groan as i trace my hands down the length of her body, hooking my thumbs into the fabric at her mid thigh. I slowly remove one sock, and then the other, making sure to trail my fingertips down her legs as I do so.

Bella never stops kissing me and touching me while I try to bury all the love I feel for her and just focus on getting lost in the physical.

I can't believe we are back here. I can't believe I drag her back here, but I don't know what else to do. I want her. Need her. And this pleasure I get from her body is the one thing I understand.

After everything she's done, I shouldn't have any emotion left for her. So I just keep touching her until all higher brain function seems to shut off.

At some point, I glance down at her naked form beneath me and notice a distinct change. Nestled right next to her hipbone, in the slight indent where I like to rest my thumb, is a cluster of thick black lines creating a dark symbol, no bigger than the circumference of a light bulb. I still my movements, bending my head to get a better look at this very visible change to Bella's exquisite form. Separately, the lines would just be lines, but together they form some sort of abstract bird stretching its wings. Its tail almost appears to be on fire.

Tentatively, I run my thumb over the tattoo and push.

"What's this?" I mutter, still not sure what I think about the marking on Bella's flawless skin.

"Hum?" she says, lifting her head from the pillows to get a good look at what has distracted me from our lovemaking. "Oh. It's a phoenix."

"Rising from the ashes?" I ask, a little in awe.

Bella stares at me in silence for a long time, and as is usual, I desperately want to know what she is thinking.

"Workin' on it," she whispers finally.

I kiss her then, and there is no more reason to talk.

I grin and hum to myself as I basically skip down stairs after the most satisfying morning I can remember in a very, very long time. I feel good about my fuck buddy decision with Bella. Everything is great. Good. Awesome, even.

So great in fact, that Bella is too sated to do anything but demand I bring her food.

Yeah, I do good work.

Still humming, I stick my head in the fridge and rummage around for something horribly unhealthy for my ladylove who best still be naked when I return.

"Hey." I hear Tia's voice and hit the top of my head on a shelf. I curse colorfully, grabbing my head as I emerge slowly from the fridge.

"Hey," I reply, rubbing my sore noggin and wishing I'd pulled on more than just a pair of sweat pants. Truthfully, I'd completely forgotten that my friend was still here. Bella's naked body tends to induce amnesia.

"Wow," she says, raking her eyes over my body before blushing and studying the floor. Tia is fully dressed and seems to be on her way out, loitering in the doorway. "Of course you have a perfect body."

"Um… thanks?" This is incredibly tense and awkward. I have no idea how to fix it. This out of control, don't know what I'm doing thing is quickly becoming the norm for me. Unfortunately.

Everything seems to be falling apart around me. But I don't care because I can have sex with Bella whenever I want.

This is probably a terrible decision. No good can come of it. But I'm really, really enjoying it.

"So, about last night," I say, pulling up a chair at the kitchen table, hoping to cover myself slightly. "I'm so sorry, Tia."

With a heavy sigh, she sits down across from me. "You know, this morning Bella was sitting right where you are."

"You talked to Bella?" I ask in concern, forgetting for a moment that Bella told me this already. She has a tendency to freak out when she's jealous, and I don't think Tia could handle a verbal lashing.

"Yes. It was very… enlightening, I suppose," she replies, still looking sad. "I can't picture you with her."

I smile ruefully. "Yeah, it's that whole opposites attract thing," I explain. "Believe it or not, we really are good together. For the most part."

Like when we are doing it.

"Bella said the same thing this morning," Tia says with a humorless chuckle. "So what's going on with you two?"

"Nothing," I reply automatically. I sure don't plan on telling Tia that I'm sleeping with Bella.

"How much do you remember about last night?" she asks.

"Most of it," I confess. She told me she wants me. Now everything is different, and I just want to know if she can still be my friend.

"So you remember when I told you…"

"That you like me?" I finish with a blush. "Yeah. I'm sorry Tia. I should have told you about Bella before we got to the party. Or a long time ago, actually."

"To be honest that wouldn't have changed anything," she admits with a shrug. "What do you see in her, Edward? I'm mean she is so uncivilized and rude. You won't believe what she called me this morning."

"Cocksucker?" I venture.

"Edward!" she shouts, appalled. I never totally realized how up tight Tia is before now. "How can you possibly be attracted to someone who talks like that?"

"Don't know," I reply, shrugging. "I've always found her ever colorful language somewhat endearing."

"Who are you?" she says, gaping at me.

Again, I just shrug.

"She does drugs, Edward," Tia continues, aghast. "She slept with your good friend!"

"First of all, she doesn't do drugs anymore." Tia looks at me with skepticism, but I press on in defense of Bella. "And Bella and Jake were together long before I met either of them, so that doesn't really matter to me at all."

In theory, anyway.

"She called me a c-word sucker," Tia mutters petulantly.

"Sorry," I mutter, struggling to keep the grin off my face. "And to answer your question, I was originally attracted to her beauty. I'd never met anyone like her. Her attitude, her toughness. But there is a soft center under all that. It's the juxtaposition of vulnerability and strength that fascinates me and drives me crazy. She knows me, challenges me, gets me. And I her. For the most part anyway."

"What's your favorite kind of food?" Tia asks abruptly.

"What?" I reply, thrown by her question.

"Your favorite kind of food," she repeats. "Like Italian? Chinese?"

"Uh… Kind of food? Ethiopian, I guess. Why?"

"No reason," she says, frowning now. "So are you getting back together with Bella?"

Sighing heavily, I drop my face to my hands. "Not at the moment," I reply finally. "It's complicated."

"Normally, I would talk it out with you but I just don't think I can handle hearing all about how much you love that trashy woman at the moment," Tia says primly. My hands clench into fists under the table, and I have to close my eyes and count to ten to calm myself down.

"Believe me, I have nothing to say," I reply.

"Where art thou, lover?" Bella calls from the hall, and I brace myself for the incoming awkward. She slides into the kitchen on her socks, giggling hysterically. Unfortunately, she is unable to stop and crashes into the kitchen counter before falling to the wooden floor with a thud. Bella continues to laugh, but I'm so freaked out by her tumble that I gallantly jump to my feet to assist her.

"Oh relax, Sir Galahad," she says with a giggle as I help her to her feet. "I'm fine except for the fact my tummy is empty and you are currently staring at me in concern instead of fucking me six ways from Sunday."

She wraps her arms around my waist and beams up at me, obviously wanting me to kiss her. I clear my throat awkwardly and look beyond her to a very pale Tia. I really hate that I'm hurting my friend, but I don't know what to do.

Bella's head whips around and her eyes narrow in the direction of my dear friend. "Oh," Bella says coldly though she blushes and pulls self-consciously on the hem of my t-shirt she threw on. It has the periodic table of elements on it. "Hey, Tia. Didn't know you were still here."

"Obviously," Tia replies dryly. "I was actually just on my way out. Edward, hopefully I will see you soon."

"Of course," I say, moving to give Tia a hug. We separate quickly, and Bella immediately grabs my hand. Her display of irrational jealousy makes me smile. "Maybe we can all go out to dinner sometime. Let you two get to know each other under different circumstances."

Both woman look at me like I'm a totally insane person. Which is probably true since I decided to become Bella's fuck buddy an hour ago. Again. What the hell am I doing?

"That would be lovely," Tia says. "Bella, it's been such a pleasure making your acquaintance."

"Ditto, homeslice," replies Bella. We watch Tia leave, and I sigh when I hear the front door close, plowing my hand through my hair.

"Well that was tense," says Bella. "Now lets grab some crackers and head back upstairs. Rosalie cannot know that you let me back into your pants. She will murder me. Upstairs pronto!"

Christmas is a quiet affair. Emmett and Rose go to her parents and Bella goes to the Black's for Christmas Eve, but everyone is around in the morning. We open presents and drink eggnog. Bella sits apart from everyone else, watching. She didn't get a single present, and I wish this fact didn't make me so sad.

I don't want to feel anything other than physical for her, but its difficult.

Rosalie sets everyone to work, preparing Christmas dinner. Bella and I chop vegetables. We stand side by side in silence as our family laughs and converses around us. As usual, the silence is not uncomfortable, but so much is left unsaid between us there is a tension beyond the sexual that seems to encompass us.

Rosalie is still not talking to Bella, but the rest of the family seems to have welcomed her back into the fold for the most part, but things still aren't the same.

Bella and I spend the next few days in bed. We have the house to ourselves because my siblings actually have real jobs and they don't have the days between Christmas and New Years off. Even Jasper, who works as a teacher, leaves every morning with big twin and apparently hangs out with in her studio all day.

We develop a highly stratifying routine. Bella gets up way before I do and goes job hunting. She usually returns around the time I wake, baring breakfast. We spend the rest of the day screwing around and not talking about anything real. She tries, somewhat valiantly, to discuss emotions and our relationship and where the hell she's been for the last two years but I always manage to distract her.

"Do you even see what's goin' on here?" Bella sits in my windowsill in her underwear, thigh high socks, and an oversized zip up, smoking a post-coital cigarette. She looks outside, face pointed towards the Flatirons. The bright winter sun brings the red out in her hair, and she looks like a goddess.

"What's going on where?" I ask, thinking she is observing something outside.

"With you and me," she clarifies.

"Bella, I told you I don't want to talk about—"

"Exactly!" she says, putting out her cigarette, closing the window, shucking the hoodie, and turning towards me. "You don't want to talk relationship and I do."

"That's because we don't have a relationship," I say, hand fisting in my hair.

She chuckles darkly and moves back to the bed, settling herself on my lap with her legs straddling my hips.

"Where have I heard that before?" she says, tapping her chin and squinting her eyes in exaggerated concentration. "Ah yes. Me. That was my fucking mantra for the better part of four years, remember?"

I just scowl up at her, not getting her point.

"This is a big time role reversal!" she declares, pounding a fist on my chest for emphasis. "I want to talk commitment and you don't. You are big time in denial about us, and I'm not. When I try to talk to you, you distract me with sex, instead of the other way around. You are me two years ago and I'm you."

I hadn't thought about it, but she is completely right.

"Do you know what that means," she says, leaning towards my lips and supporting herself above me with her elbows on either side of my head. I'm thoroughly entranced by her dark chocolate stare, and my body strains off the bed to get closer to hers.

"What?" I whisper, my hands slipping under her panties and cupping her firm little butt.

"That eventually you're gonna pull your head out of your ass and figure out that you can't live without me," she whispers in my ear.

And just like that, I've had enough with the talk. With a growl I flip her over and kiss the breath right out of her. If she can't breathe, she can't talk.

"You have to let me go," Bella giggles several hours later as she squirms in my arms. All four of my limbs are wrapped around her body from behind. I burrow my face into her hair and shake my head, indicating that I have no plans to release her. She squeals and wiggles while I touch her everywhere and rub myself against her inappropriately.

"Good God, man!" she squeaks. "We're done it like five times today! And you have case studies to go over."

"Don't care," I reply, continuing to grope her. She stifles a little moan and I think she's giving in to my advances, but then she starts fighting me with renewed vigor.

"Seriously, Edward," she says, her voice husky with lust. "If Rosalie finds me in here with you, she's going to kick my ass."

"I don't give a fuck what Rosalie thinks," I murmur, nipping at her ear. Bella's whole body tenses, and I begrudgingly let her go.

She slumps off the bed immediately, her limbs shaking slightly as she jerks her arms into a long sleeved shirt.

"What's wrong?" I ask, concerned. I try to touch her shoulder in comfort, but she pulls away.

"I have to live with her, Edward. She used to be my good friend," Bella snaps. "So forgive me for caring what she thinks."

"Bella, love—"

"Just do your reading," she says. Bella pulls on a pair of tight jeans, green shirt, and thick socks before pushing a hand through my hair. She leans forward, and I close my eyes so she can kiss each lid.

* * *

September 30, 2008

"I really don't understand why you don't like my genius plan," Bella snaps without even looking at me. Her gaze is focused solely on the paperwork she is diligently filing in the front office of Hallett Hall. She is on duty this afternoon, and I stopped by to bring her lunch and keep her company.

"It's not that I don't like it," I sputter, defending myself lamely.

"You with your academic awesome should be proud that I am on track to graduate at the end of the fucking semester," she continues, bending over to shove some papers in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. The movement provides me an excellent view of her backside, and I forget what my point was.

"Stop ogling the fucking goods, you dirty pervert," she scolds as she straightens and turns back to her computer.

"What were we talking about?" I ask, adjusting my pants in what I hope is a subtle way. But Bella chuckles, and I know I didn't get away with it.

"My genius plan to graduate early. Thus owing Phil less money. Plus I've been an RA for two years and a half years and I just can't take it anymore. I'm tried of being forced to care about the obscenely unimportant problems of whiney, self-involved freshmen," she explains, viciously jabbing at the keys of the work computer.

"Well whose fault is that?" I scoff. "I've asked you hundreds of times to move in with me."

"Can't afford rent," she replies through clenched teeth.

"I told you not to worry about that either," I say, trying to stay calm.

"You're making me want to punch you."

"At least you are verbalizing that desire rather than acting on it."

"Cut the fancy talk, dipshit," she snaps, turning to glare at me. "I'm graduating a semester early and that's that."

"And what are you going to do after you graduate?" I ask, being the reasonable one as usual.

"Dunno. I think I might travel. Become a nomad. Hitchhike across this glorious nation of ours," she says.

I snort, and she raises an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I ask in horror. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I'm in no rush to start a career," Bella replies, turning back to her work. "I want to see things. I want experience."

"But didn't you do all that no home, vagabond thing with your mom growing up?" I ask, on the verge of completely panicking.

"That doesn't fucking count," she dismisses. "I've been living in Boulder since I was eleven, and I feel all restless."

I sit quietly, picking at my sandwich and collecting my thoughts.

"I mean, I know I need to pay back Phil but he's still being fucking stubborn about it. I figure that if more time passes he might change his mind."

"Bella," I say, working really hard to keep the emotion out of my voice. "If you travel after you graduate in December, I can't go with you."

Bella's fingers falter momentarily on the keyboard before she resumes her vigorous typing.

"Oh," she murmurs in reply. "Didn't really think about that."

Bella hasn't hurt me like this in a long time. Since her mother left a year ago, things between us have been wonderful. Though she hasn't verbalized anything, I can see how much she cares about me in the way she acts. I thought she stopped denying our connection. She needs me as I need her. Our lives our intertwined. We spend most of our nights together. She lets me take her on dates, introduce her as my girlfriend, and tell her I love her. We are together in every since of the word, even if its not officially declared.

How could she possibly think about leaving, just like that?

"Wow," Bella says contemplatively, interrupting the silence and my brooding. "It's really ending."

"What is?" I squeak out, terrified that she's about to dump me. I don't think I'll survive.

"College. This whole chapter of our lives." Her words only slightly nullify my fears. I really do not like the direction this is heading. "Nothing's permanent."

"I don't believe that," I reply. "How I feel about you isn't going to change."

Bella turns to look at me with narrowed eyes and clenched teeth. Sighing heavily, she shakes her head at me.

"Don't even go there," she says.

"Go where, Bella?" I snap, angry now. "To how I feel about you? To what I want for us in the future?"

"See," she says with a glare, pushing herself away from the desk and abruptly standing to pace around the small office. "This is exactly the problem. There is no 'us', Edward. I thought I was pretty goddamn clear about that from the get go."

I laugh humorlessly. "I thought we were passed this."

"Passed what?" she demands with a shriek. "Not wanting anything serious? I've fucking told you… You said you could handle the friends with benefits situation!"

"You are so full of shit!" I yell back. "So in denial. We are much more than friends, Isabella. And you fucking know it."

Her face crumbles, changing abruptly from livid to scared. Her eyes go wide and her teeth instantly close over her bottom lip. "I don't know what the fuck you are talking about," she says without much heat.

"Yes, you do," I reply, rising and approaching her. She backs up in an apparent panic, until I have her cornered against a filing cabinet. "I love you. And I think you love me too."

"Edward. You're being fucking ridiculous. I don't even like myself so there is abso-fucking-lutely no reason for anyone else to put up with me. You're a very smart guy, and you would have to be an idiot to be with me on a permanent basis!"

"You don't see yourself correctly, Bella," I say, trying to keep the desperation out of my tone as I look sadly down at her. "You're not bad. You're secretly kind and loving and smart. You write poetry and always give money or your leftovers to hobos, even though you don't have much to spare. And you like to take care of me, in your own way. Always saving me dinner and waiting up when I'm home late. You. Are. Good. Despite this hard thing you project, you're good."

"Just fucking stop it!" she yells, hands in her hair and glaring. "My mom—"

"Right. I know. I get it. Your mom left and you grew up thinking your dad didn't want you. It's tough. You've had a tough life with the moving and the flaky parents and everything, but it's time to get over it now."

"I am over it. I'm fine—"

"No, Bella, you're not. You freak out when I tell you I love you." She pales and looks a bit like she is going to vomit, illustrating my point. "You are incapable of saying the word yourself when I know you love me too. And I know you told me from the beginning, that you couldn't give me what I want. Form the get go, you said it was just sex. Well, that's all bullshit. We have been together for two and a half years. Not just fuck buddies. But together together. No matter what you label it, we are in a relationship, Bella. A rather serious relationship."

"But… I… but… we…" She's stuttering and its rare that Bella is at a loss of words. I'm used to strength and impenetrability but for once, she is actually listening to me.

"Isabella," I whisper, wrapping my hand around her neck. I pull her to my chest and kiss her temple. "I love you. I've loved you since I first met you, freshmen year. I love you, and you love me too."

"I can't…" she moans miserably.

"Try. Just try. Make an effort to get better. Please."

"Will you leave me?" she asks, staring up at me with those big brown eyes. "If I can't… Will you leave?"

"No, Bella," I sigh, hugging her again, relieved that she returns my hug with equal desperation. "I can't be away from you. But you're the one talking about leaving."

"Urg," she groans, burying her face in her hands. "I know. God, that was just fucking ridiculous, wasn't it?"

"I certainly think so," I reply, tenderly grabbing her hands. She winces, refusing to meet my gaze. "So you're not going to go gallivanting across the country without me?"

Bella shakes her head and bites her lip. I quickly remove it from her teeth before tracing her jaw with my thumb.

"I'm still graduating a semester early," she mumbles like a petulant child.

"Whatever you want, love," I reply with a smile.

Showing me her shy, unsure side, she takes a tentative step forward, wrapping her arms around my neck. Releasing a huge sigh of relief, I return her embrace. Bella pulls back, moving to hold my face to hers with her hands on my jaw. She kisses me roughly, but quickly. It leaves me a little lightheaded, and I'm grinning when she pulls away.

"Edward?" she says, looking so vulnerable.

"Yes, love?"

"I'll try."

October 3, 2008

"I'm coming with you," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose and trying so keep the frustration out of my voice.

"You have school!" Bella yells at me as she paces around her small dorm room. Occasionally, she throws an article of clothing into her backpack. She claims to be packing, but so far she only has a swimsuit, a pair of sweat pants, and a leopard print bra.

She won't be able to wear any of that to the funeral.

Last night, Bella received a call from Carlisle of all people. I watched as her face morphed from confused, to pleased, to puzzled, to devastated, to emotionless. Silently she handed me the phone, before standing and moving directly to the liquor cabinet. I watched, utterly bemused, as Bella disappeared with a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

"Dad?" I asked when Bella departed. "What did you say to drive my girlfriend to drink?"

"Edward, it's Charlie." I could hear stress and sorrow in his voice. "He's… Edward, he had a heart attack."

"Is he alright?" I asked, lamely.

"No, Edward. He's dead."

I sat there in stunned silence for a moment before Carlisle gave me the few details he had.

"We'll be there tomorrow," I assured him before hanging up to find Bella.

She didn't talk to me all night. She just sat on the roof, drinking. At some point she let me wrap her in a blanket and nodded her agreement when I explained flight times in her ear.

Bella still hasn't talked about it, or cried, and now she's forbidding me from accompanying her to Forks for her father's funeral. Yeah, like that's going to happen.

"Bella, I can take the time off. It will be fine," I say, clenching my fists in an effort to keep calm. The truth was, I'd already contacted all my professors who had been shockingly understanding. They'd assigned me a boatload of make up work that would take me weeks to complete, but I didn't mind. "Plus, I already bought the non-refundable tickets."

"Why the fuck would you do that?" she snaps, marching over to me like she's going to punch me. I preemptively grab her wrists.

"You said I could," I remind her. "Last night."

"I was fucking drunk!" she snaps. She's completely frazzled. Her eyes are wide and panic stricken. Her hands shake. She looks so lost, it breaks my heart.

"Come here," I say, dropping my grip from her hands to rest on her waist. She reluctantly steps forward and relaxes into my body. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. She returns my hug, and exhales loudly.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" I ask her, kissing her temple.

"No," she whispers. "Did you?"

"No," I answer. "We'll sleep on the plane. Let me help you pack."

"I can do it," she mutters.

"Bella, please. Just let me help you," I insist.

She nods once before moving off my lap. Together we pack all she will need for the next week. She carefully lays out the black dress she selected for the funeral out on top off my clothes in my suit case, keeping it flat rather than wadding in up in her backpack.

Emmett drives us the airport in silence. I watch Bella's face from the back in the rearview mirror. It hauntingly blank, and I don't know what to do to make it easier for her.

Bella moves like a zombie through security and onto the airplane. She doesn't speak, and I don't try to start conversation. We both get a couple hours of sleep on the plane before we land in Seattle.

Esme and Carlisle pick us up. They hug Bella who looks horribly uncomfortable. Her emotionlessness scares me. Her fire has burned out.

Carlisle talks about the medical behind what happened to Charlie while Bella stares out the window, nodding at appropriate times. Esme offers to oversee the details of the funeral, and Bella smiles for the first time in the last 24-hours at my mother.

"Thank you," Bella murmurs in an unsteady voice. "I'm very grateful that you're doing that, Mrs.… Esme."

Bella doesn't want to sleep at Charlie's, alone or with me, so she stays at my parent's house. We eat dinner in relative silence. I watch Bella push her food around her plate. She take's a total of three bites.

I push a glass of water towards her when I notice that the majority of her meal consists of wine. She hiccups and takes the water with a rueful smile.

"So, Bella," Esme says in a soft voice after the dishes are cleared away. "I have the guest bedroom on the third floor all made up for you with clean sheets and everything."

Wow, not liking the sound of that.

"Uh…" Bella turns her panicked eyes on me, and I know she doesn't like the sound of that either.

"Mom," I say, feeling awkward. "I was thinking Bella could sleep with me." Esme winces, and Bella grabs my hand. "I don't want her to be alone tonight."

"Oh. Right. Well, I don't think that's entirely appropriate," my mother bumbles with a frown.

"Esme," Carlisle says, putting a hand on Mom's back. "They are twenty-two years old and in a serious relationship," Bella makes a choking sound at that, but I'm the only one that seems to notice. "Let them be."

"Oh," Mom says, looking upset. "I guess that's fine."

After that awkward little interlude, I rush Bella upstairs. She takes a long shower before crawling into bed with me. I try to pull her into my arms, but she remains stiff.

"What's wrong, love?" I ask.

"Nothin'," she replies tersely, scooting to the very edge of the bed to get away from me.

"Bella, your dad just died," I whisper. We still haven't talked about it. Bella hasn't said a word about it nor has she cried. Even though she didn't know him growing up, in the last couple years they got very close. They talked on the phone weekly. She once told me that it was wonderful, having a real father. And Bella doesn't throw around words like wonderful often.

She's hurting. It's written all over her face and with her silence. To those who don't know her, Bella's lack of outward grief may appear cold, detached. But I know there is a storm raging inside my girl. I just wish she'd let me help shoulder the burden.

"I know," she replies, sounding miserable.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

"There's nothing to talk about," she insists. "Charlie was alive and now he's dead and I spent a grand total of a month with him. Tops."

"Isabella," I say, reaching out for her in the dark. "That's not your fault."

Bella drops back into silence and tries to wiggle away from my hand.

"Please, Bella," I say after ten minutes of suffocating quiet. "Just tell me what your thinking."

"You won't like what I'm thinking," she whispers.

"Just tell me. You'll feel better," I promise.

"I'm mad at you," she mutters petulantly.

"For flying out here with you?" I ask, puzzled by her answer.

"Yes. But there's more and its irrational and making me feel like a crazy person," she admits, sitting up suddenly in bed and smacking her palms in to the comforter.

"It's okay. You're allowed to be irrational right now."

"I'm mad at you because it's your fault that I even care that he's dead," she blurts out before groaning and burying her face in a pillow. "You were the one that convinced me to talk to him freshmen year over Thanksgiving break. You are the one that told me to cultivate a relationship! If it wasn't for you, Charlie would still be a stranger to me and I wouldn't be hurting like this."

I just blink at her, not knowing what to say.

"I'm a crazy person."

"No your not," I say, trying not to chuckle at her adorableness. Even if she is pissed at me and her dad is dead, I find her horribly appealing. There is probably something wrong with me. "You're grieving. And you're also looking at it all wrong. Knowing you made him so happy. Hopefully you'll get to the point where you're grateful for the time you had."

"That's the thing," she says with a sigh. "I thought I would have more time. I mean, I saw him over the summer, but it was only for a week and we didn't even really do anything. I read while he fished like every day."

"That's quality time, Isabella," I insist. "You were both doing what you loved, but together."

"I guess," she mutters. "It just doesn't really seem real."

I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her into my side. "I know, love," I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple. "Unfortunately, it will become real."

She sighs heavily, snuggling into my side. "That's the worst part. It might not. My life isn't going to change at all. I barely even knew my own father."

"That may have been true once, but in the last couple years you've gotten close," I assure her. "You talk weekly."

"Talked," she corrects. "We talked once a week."

"Oh, Bella." She sniffs but shows no other sign of crying. At her pain, I'm pretty close to tears myself, and Bella glances up at my face at my tone. Giving me a heart breaking little smile, she slow repositions herself so she's sitting in my lap, facing me. Her shins rest against the outsides of my thighs. An erection grows in my pants, and I blush in the shame of getting turned on at such a time.

"No," she says forcefully, grabbing my face when I attempt to pull away. "I'm sad and it's making you sad and that just makes me sadder." She kisses me passionately, and my head falls back against the headboard.

"Uhh…"

"But you can make it stop," she murmurs against my lips as she rolls her pelvis, causing me to let out a low groan. "Please, Edward," she kisses me again but my lips remain unresponsive in my shock, "make it stop."

Bella continues to whisper this mantra and punctuates it with kisses until she coaxes a response from me. It doesn't take long before we're both naked, and she's writhing beneath me. She sinks her teeth into the sensitive skin at the junction of my shoulder and neck when I remind her to be quite because of my parents.

I come real quick after that.

After, we cling together, facing each other. She strokes my face, and I stare at her avidly. At one point, I can see the tears pooling in her eyes, but she blinks them away before really falling asleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours.

Esme plans the majority of the funeral, and Bella is so grateful, she willingly hugs my mother. The service is held two days later, and my dark angel hasn't really said much of anything, I can tell she is dreading it.

My parents talk in hushed tones in the front of the car, while Bella sits close to me, curled into my side while she stares blankly out the window. Her silence is deeply unsettling, and I would feel better if she cried, screamed, or cursed the gods. The lack of emotion shows the extent of her devastation.

It slays me, seeing her like this.

We arrive at the church, and I slide out of the car, offering a hand to Bella. She latches onto my arm. People stare at the deceased police chief's allusive daughter, and I know that this makes her uncomfortable, but her face remains impassive.

"Bella," Mrs. Newton says, stopping us before we make it to relative safety of the chapel. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

I watch in horror as Mrs. Newton throws herself on Bella, sobbing uncontrollably. Bella looks revolted and pats her on the back awkwardly, staring at me to help her. Somehow, Mrs. Newton ends up crying in my arms, which only serves to piss Bella off. But I detangle myself and wrap my arm around Bella again.

Unfortunately, we are stopped over and over again as we move inside. Various distraught towns folk stop Bella, extolling her late fathers various qualities. She has never met most of them, and all look disappointed when she fails to really speak to them at all. I hold up the majority of the heavy lifting, conversation wise, and I sigh in relief when we finally talk our seats in the front pew next to my parents.

All of Forks seems to have showed up to say goodbye to the chief, and Bella looks horribly overwhelmed. Despite her passive face, she squeezes my hand throughout the service. It runs long because so many of Charlie's close friends speak. Carlisle speech is moving, and has tears pooling even in my eyes. Particularly heartbreaking is Charlie's girlfriend, Pat Clearwater who lost her first husband to a heart attack as well.

Bella's eyes are the only dry ones in the church, and I don't know how she's managing to stay so composed.

The reception held at our house is even more strained. Bella becomes even more withdrawn as countless strangers recount memories of Charlie. I can see what Bella's thinking. She is just seeing this as more evidence that she didn't really know her father. Many people look to Bella for comfort or to commiserate or to share their grief, but she remains impassive.

The one time I leave Bella side to visit the buffet in an attempt to get her to eat something, I over hear Mrs. Stanley talking to Mrs. Newton and my mother.

"It's just not natural!" says Mrs. Stanley. "To be that unemotional. I mean, her father died."

"I totally agree," says Mrs. Newton. "It's like she didn't care for him at all. She has always been ungrateful. Like that summer when I gave her a job and she left without any notice. Very selfish, that girl. Like her mother. How could she not care about her own father?"

"That's totally unfair," Esme says, glaring between the two women and making me proud. "She's been staying with us and I can promise you that she is very distraught. Bella just has a different way of showing her grief."

"Well I think she's cold," says Mrs. Stanley.

"Look at how she's latched on to your son, Esme," Mrs. Newton continues. "She obviously has an eye on his trust fund."

"That's fucking enough!" I hear myself yell, causing several heads to whip in my direction. "That girl is heartbroken over the lose of her father, and you gossiping harpies don't know anything about her or our relationship so just shut the hell up!"

I stalk back to Bella without ever making it the buffet. The look on her face leads me to think that she heard everything, but she remains eerily silent. Instead she just smiles sadly and gently reaches up to cradle my jaw, bringing my face to hers. She kisses me quickly before turning around and departing up the stairs.

After everyone has cleared out of our house and I've helped my mother clean up, I set off to find Bella. I'm shocked to see my bedroom empty, but it really doesn't take me long to locate her in the music room.

With hunched shoulders, she sits on the bench in front of my piano. It has been a long time since I've touched the instrument, or any like it for that matter. My life is just too full, between school and the hospital and Bella, for music. But I really have missed playing. At one point I even considered going to school to study music, but ultimately I much more interested in how the human body works than coaxing notes from wood and ivory.

Bella is staring down at the keys, not touching them. She has yet to change out of her black dress, and her posture is so defeated. I feel useless and powerless.

"Hey," I say, approaching her. I lay a hand on her shoulder but she doesn't even glace up from the piano. "How are you?"

She simply shrugs her shoulders, still not looking at me.

I sigh and take a seat next to her. She immediately lays her head on my shoulder and places her hand on my thigh. We sit in silence for a long time, and eventually my close proximity to my old piano overcomes me. I feel compelled to lift my hands, running them lovingly over the keys before softly beginning to spin out a simple melody.

Bella's head snaps up as she turns to gape at me.

"Sorry," I mutter, feeling guilty for disturbing her peace. But she huffs in frustration, grabs my hand from my lap, and places them on the keys. I look at her, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Don't stop," she whispers before closing her eyes and laying her head back down. Its position on my shoulder impedes my movement slightly, but I don't mind. I play for my grieving dark angel, a lament. A requiem. I don't know the song, but instead just make it up on the spot. Keeping the basics of the melody fundamentally the same, over time the song morphs into something else. Its bittersweet, full of love and fear, pain and joy. It's a bundle of contradictions and just how I see Bella.

I play for hours, adding to it. Tweaking it.

Eventually, with wrists aching from lack of practice, I have to stop. By this time, Bella seems to have fallen asleep at my side, so I gently pick her up and carry her to my bedroom. She mumbles something and snuggles closer, not letting me go as I attempt to set her down. So, with great difficulty, I slip off our shoes and situate us in bed.

Bella is really sleeping. I kiss her temple before I join her.

We leave a couple days after the funeral. Bella inherited Charlie's house which he owned out right, and we went over there to pack everything up, but Bella took one look of the picture of herself and her dad taken last summer and decided that the house would just have to wait. We go back to Boulder with a promise form Esme that she's look after the house and air it out every once and awhile.

Things go back to normal, for the most part. Bella goes to class, does her job as an RA, and shares my bed, but she's a shell. She doesn't talk much, her eyes are dull. She just goes through the motions, and I'm at a loss.

I feel her slipping away, and I can't help but hold on tighter.

One Thursday night just before Thanksgiving, I get home from the hospital with plans to shower and change before heading over to Hallett for the night. Bella is on duty, and I'll do homework in her dorm room until she gets off and returns from the front desk.

Instead, I turn on the light in my room to find Bella sitting in the middle of my bed with her knees pulled up to her chin. And although she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, she frankly looks terrible. The dark circles, greasy hair, and silence have become the norm for Bella, and I don't know what to do to help her. Today, she has the hood of a black zip up pulled over her head and wears a pair of excessively holey jeans.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, surprised to see her.

"I quit," she mutters, working her bottom lip.

I pause, halfway out of my sweater at her words. For one terrible moment I think she means she quits us. That she is finally done. Or maybe she means she quits school, which would enrage me because she is so close to finishing. Or maybe she means she quits everything. Life in Boulder. Maybe she is finally going to leave and become a nomad.

"Quit?" I manage to squeak out. I clear my throat and hope that the next time I speak I sound like a man.

"Yeah," she says, nodding her head and continuing to bite her lip. "My job."

"Job?" I ask, still not quite getting it. But at least now there is hope.

"Being an RA. Well, I sorta quit. Was sorta let go," she admits.

For the first time I notice all the stuff that seems to have exploded in my room. There are large boxes, clothes draped everywhere, and a couple duffels.

"I had more stuff at Hallett than I thought," she muses, following the path of my eyes thoughtfully.

Finally summoning the motor skill to remove my cardigan, I throw it over the back of a chair before taking off my starchy polo. Moving to the closet, I select a more comfortable t-shirt and sweats.

"What happened?" I ask as I change.

"I thought you would ask that," she says with a heavy sign before flopping backward onto the bed. Grinning at her dramatics, I finish changing and lie down next to her so only our shoulders are touching.

"Are you going to make me ask it again?" I inquire, soliciting a little snort of Bella.

"No, I'll tell you. I'm just a little embarrassed," she confesses. I turn my head to look at her, flashing her an encouraging little smile. With a huff, she rolls to face me on her side, supporting the weight of her head on her elbow. "Well, it really all happened because of some fucking chocolate Silk Soy Milk."

I blink at her in confusion and wait for her to go on.

"See, theses two roommates were screaming at each other in the hall after dinner this evening, and being as I am their fucking RA and trained in conflict resolution, I had to fucking deal with it. Turns out Blake- you know Blake. The bitchy one I absolutely loathe that has a thing for you- she is all upset because her roommate, Jenna, supposedly drank all of her Silk Soy Milk. So I do the whole talk it out, clam them down thing, but neither girl is willing to back down. Jenna claims to hate soy and says she would never drink it."

The ludicrousness of this story is starting to make my head hurt, but I listen anyway.

"So they go on and on and on, and suddenly, I fucking snap. I mean, they are fucking arguing about fucking milk. Milk! I just wanted to shake them both and be like 'get some real fucking problems then you talk to me'. Anyway, I started screaming. And I will admit I was out of line and lost it for a minute. But milk, Edward. Milk!"

Frankly, I knew she was bound to snap at some point. No one can keep all of that in and still function for long.

"At one point during my freak out I may or may not have threatened to hold them both down and pour a gallon of whole milk down each of their throats and then smashed their faces in their own filth when they inevitably puked it all back up."

At this, I can't help but laugh.

"It's not fucking funny," she says, punching me in the shoulder. "Threatening a student is very bad."

"I know. I'm sorry, love. But it's just so ridiculous," I say, still chuckling.

Bella cracks a grin, and it's a beautiful sight. I've missed her smiles.

"Then what happened?" I press.

"Well, I had a big long talk with the hall director. And she was like, you're been under so much stress with graduation coming up, and then you took hardly anytime off after your dad passed – why do people fucking say it that way? He fucking died. So we came to the mutual understanding that I am no longer fit to be an RA."

"Bella," I say, tracing my thumb across her cheekbone. "I'm so sorry."

"Naw, it's fine," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I was sick of that shit anyway. I really couldn't handle it. The problems these whiny little bitches have. They all need to collectively suck it the fuck up."

"It's okay to be upset sometimes, love. It's okay to be vulnerable," I murmur, staring in her eyes.

She winces at my words. "No, its really not." I want to refute that point, but she continues to talk. "And now I need somewhere to live."

"Oh really?" I say, rolling to my side and mimicking her position.

"Yes, really," she says, blushing and squirming in discomfort.

"Good thing you have a boyfriend dying to live with you," I murmur as she continues to blush.

"Good thing," she agrees, kissing my nose before hopping out of bed. As run down as she looks, the tight fit and many holes of her jeans sure are hot. "But we have to clear it with the rest of the roomies first. And its only until I can find my own place!"

"This is ridiculous," I reply. "You basically live here anyway. No one is even going to notice a change in the daily life around here."

She ignores my protests, and fifteen minutes Bella has all of the roomies seated together on the living room couch. I stand off to the side, leaning against a wall and observing, while Bella nervously stands in front of them.

"Yo, make this quick! I've got shit to do," says Rosalie.

"What got you all tied up? You're sweatin' like a whore in church," comments Jasper.

"Bella, really, those jeans have got to go," remarks Alice.

"I'm hungry," declares Emmett.

"Will you all just let her speak?" I demand, miraculously getting them all to shut up. "Thank you. Go ahead, love. Ask away."

"Right," says Bella, talking a big breath. She is more animated then I've seen her since the funeral. "Well, due to a minor milk related incident it has been mutually decided by me and my boss that the RA gig is no longer for me."

"She's still an RA? OW! Shit, Rose. Keep your elbows to yourself." I glare at my brother until there is silence once more.

"So, I find myself in need of a place to live. And it would only be temporary, probably just until graduation." I don't like this at all but remain silent. "So… what do you think?"

Her smile is forced and everyone looks on with blank expressions.

"Is she asking to move in here?" clarfies Jasper.

"I thought she already lived here," muses Emmett.

"God, you are an idiot. And this shit is boring. I have midterms coming," says Rosalie, getting up and stalking towards her bedroom door.

"Yeah!" screams Alice, launching herself at Bella. "We are officially roommates again."

And that is how Bella and I moved in together. Ah, progress.

* * *

**Oh Edward. What _are_ you doing? **

**And Bella. Damn, I am really torturing her huh? This is not the worst. That comes next chapter, along with a whole lot of answers.**

**Yup, next chapter is the big one. Should be up next week.**

**Review? Also, thanks for reading. I seriously love you guys.**


	21. Things Fall Apart

**I must say I am a wee bit impressed with myself regarding the earliness of this chapter. Huzzah to me.**

**SO MANY NEW READERS LAST CHAPTER! Its lovely, and I've been told people are pimpin this story on all sorts of sites which is just mind blowingly awesome. So, THANK YOU. For reading, reviewing, pimping, enjoying, whatever. THANK YOU! Huzzah to you too.**

**Shit gets real this chapter. **

**At last we find out who the allusive "him" is. Popular guesses include Peter, James, Phil, and a couple others. And some of you are definitely correct. This, plus more surprises ahead.**

**I don't own.**

**See you on the other side.**

* * *

December 31, 2010

BPOV

"Guess what?" I ask when I get home a long day of job hunting. Edward is in the dining room, pouring over medical crap. Its amazing, the amount of homework he has over break. But Edward is ever studious, and he makes time somehow, even with him wanting to fuck me ever twelve seconds.

Not that I mind.

It's a little concerning, this whole weird bubble we are existing in at the moment. And I know it will burst one of these days. I can only hope that he decides to have a rational conversation with me before then. In the mean time, I savor every moment and orgasm I share with Edward.

I put Edward in fuck buddy, relationship purgatory for three years. Now I'm serving my time. And that's okay, but eventually Edward's Edwardiness will get the better of him, and he'll want to know everything. He'll want to deduce and reason the shit out of why I left and where I was.

I just have to hope that in a reasonable discussion, Edward will listen to me and not completely freak the fuck out. I have to tell him everything before Rosalie opens her big fat slutty mouth. But she hasn't given me away yet, so I had hope that she won't.

Maybe she forgot. Right.

But even without Rosalie, I would have to tell him. I want to tell him, as much as the thought of saying the actually words nauseates me. I want him to understand. For a long time I did my very best to forget the worst of it, but now all the terrible memories come back full force. It hurts, and I know the worst of it is going to hurt Edward too.

The pain is no longer sharp, just a dull ache. But I know it will hurt Edward and the thought of his pain pains me.

"Yes, love?" he asks, turning to face me and pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head. He scrubs his hands over his eyes and stretches in his seat, indicating that he's been at the studying thing for a while.

"I got a job." I plop myself down on his lap and rain kisses on his perfect face. I've missed this face, and I revel in my newfound ability to touch it whenever I so choose.

"Really?" he asks with a grin. "So you _are_ staying."

I punch him in the arm and scowl. "I've made it very fucking clear that I'm not going anywhere, cocksucker."

He just shrugs, and I try not to be offended. He has no reason to trust me. I'll just have to keep working to establish some permanence in his life.

Which is going to be very difficult after I confess all that I haven't told him.

"Are you going to ask me where I'm going to start working next week?" I inquire, running my hand through the hair at his temple.

"Where are you working, Isabella?" he asks, pressing a thumb into my hip, right on my tattoo.

"Well, it's nothing fancy. It's not a career or anything, but it'll do till I figure out what I really want to do with my life—"

"You're babbling," Edward says, smiling at me.

"The Laughing Goat," I tell him. Edward and I spent a lot of time at the Goat and the plethora of other coffee shops in downtown Boulder, studying and attending poetry readings. "I'm going to be a barista."

"Well you already make a damn good cup of coffee," he agrees. "But that owner asshole has always had a thing for you."

I don't tell Edward that I had a one-night stand with Tommy before ever meeting Edward, and that it's probably the reason I got the job.

"But now I can get you free caffeine whenever you need it," I point out, distracting him.

"This is true," he says.

"You know what tonight is, right?" I blurt, broaching the subject I've been dreading all day.

"New Year's Eve," he murmurs, looking away.

Two years ago tonight, I left him without a word. And he doesn't want to talk to me about it.

"Not my favorite holiday," I say, trying to sound casual.

"Nor mine," he agrees, still not looking at me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I tell him again, for good measure. I'll keep repeating it until he believes me.

Edward just nods.

"Maybe we can make this holiday better, shoot for a little redemption," I suggest in a quiet voice. I'm ridiculously nervous for his answer, bracing myself for his rejection.

He remains silent for a long time until finally turning to smile at me. "I would like that very much, Isabella."

When Alice and Jasper return home with Chinese food for dinner, Edward and I are cuddled up on the couch. We're watching the Twilight Zone marathon, played every New Year's. I know I shouldn't be snuggling with him like this in front of everyone, but when we're together, I can't help but touch him. My head rests on his chest and my hand rests on his thigh. His arm is curled around my waist.

It feels normal and good and right.

"Aw," Jasper says, removing his coat and grabbing a beer before plopping down on the sofa across from us. "Aren't you two just adorable? Is this the Twilight Zone?"

"Shit yes!" I tell him, learning over Edward to give Jazz a high five.

"I fuckin' love this show," he says, smiling at Alice as she brings the bag over and sets it on the coffee table.

"Where are Rose and Em?" asks Alice, emerging from the bag with some Kung Pao chicken.

"They went to get drinks with some Whole Food people," Edward explains, playing with my hair.

"So they're starting the drinking really early tonight, huh?" Alice asks, handing Jasper a fork. The man can't seem to figure out chopsticks.

"I suppose so," Edward replies. He takes a sip of his glass of wine and toasts with Jazz, a shit eating grin on his face.

"Do ya'll want some?" Jasper offers us some mushu.

"Naw, bre," I say with a shake of my head. "We already ate."

"You guys going to Jake's later?" asks Alice.

Edward and I glance at each other and have a silent debate before turning back to Alice, nodding.

"Sweet. Just like the good old days."

We all smile at each other before focusing again the television. I settled back into Edward side, perfectly content for the first time in years. Edward and I are getting back on track. We haven't talked yet, but there is time. We have time.

Three episodes later, and there is a commotion near the front door. We all turn our heads away from television greatness to see Rose and Em stumble in drunk. They giggle hysterically and hang all over each other.

I try to move away from Edward because I don't want Rosalie to see, but he holds firm as he stares down at me in confusion.

"Sup, bitches?" asks Emmett. Falling to his knees, he flops face down on the carpet in front of the television and progresses to not move.

"He's not even going to make it to midnight," Edward observes.

Everyone mutters their agreement except Rosalie who finds this statement highly offensive and progresses to lecture us all for a solid ten minutes on the stamina of her boyfriend. Jasper brings out another round of beers because we will all need alcohol to deal with Rose tonight.

She is in a mood, and it makes me nervous. Again, I try (with little success) to distance myself from Edward's side.

Eventually Rose burns herself out, and seems to notice Edward and I on the couch for the first time.

"Oh this is just fucking great," she says, swaying in front of the TV and gesturing wildly with her perfectly manicured hands. "Look at you two, all fucking cozy."

"Rose, please," I say, trying to get her to stop talking. Rose is drunk and mad and I hope that she doesn't say anything in her rage.

"No, don't even fucking talk to me, you lying bitch," she snaps, glaring at me.

"Whoa," Edward says, sitting up from the back of the couch and glaring at Rose. "That's completely uncalled for. Don't talk to her like that."

"Edward, it's fine," I say, attempting to play peacemaker.

"No, its not fine," he says, snapping at me now. "I don't want to hear it."

"Of course _you_ don't," yells Rose, flailing her hands widely. "_You_ never want to hear the truth. _You_ want to live in the fucking dark about her. _You_ don't want to see what she really is."

"That's enough, Rosalie," he yells right back, clenching his fists. I'm paralyzed with fear, that Rose will say something Edward won't understand. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"_I _don't… _I_ fucking don't!" Rose growls and babbles and I can tell. She's about to do it.

"Rosalie, please," I plead, willing her to feel a little compassion. I'm not ready, and neither is he. Edward hasn't listen to me yet.

"Tell me, Edward," Rose says, completely ignoring me. "Have you and Isabella talked yet?"

"That's none of your business, Rose," Alice says, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Rose, just sit down. We're gonna leave for Jake's soon," Jasper says. He usually is so good at bringing calm to the house, but Rose isn't listening.

"So you haven't," Rose says, grinning evilly. She's getting joy in my pain, the drunken sadist. She's pissing me off. I've put up with a lot of her crap because I left and deserve it, but I'm quickly reaching the end of my rope. I don't have a lot of experience, not fighting back. "You have no idea why she left."

"I don't know what—" Edward starts, but Rose is on a roll.

"I know. I know something you don't know," she taunts.

"Don't, Rosalie," I say, my voice full of authority. Externally I sounds strong, but I don't recall ever being this terrified or angry in my life. This bitch is going down if she can't keep her yap shut.

"Bella has a secret." Her singsong voice has me leaping up from my seat next to Edward, fists clenched at my sides. I'm seriously close to slappin' a hoe.

"Shut the fuck up, you conniving cow," I hiss between clenched teeth.

"Why the fuck should I? You just waltz back in and act like nothing's changed. Like you own the fucking place. Well you don't, you filthy whore," Edward growls at that one, but I'm solely focused on my former friend in front of me.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale," I seethe. "You shut your mouth right now. You promised me."

"No," she spits at me. We square off with the coffee table between us as everyone else watches. Except Emmett. I'm sure the housemates are alarmed. They've never seen Rose and I go toe to toe. Back in the day, we had some real fights. I thought we'd grown up, but she's drunk and belligerent and dangerously close to ruining my life.

"Yes!" I insist, actually stomping my fucking foot.

"Fuck no!" she shrieks. "I've kept my fucking mouth shut for two fucking years because I would not be responsible for hurting him even more." Rosalie gestures in Edward's general direction. "It was goddamn pathetic, what you did to him."

"Rose, you don't know what you think you know." I'm getting desperate. If Rose stops now, Edward will have questions. The boy always has questions. But if I can just have the chance to answer them, to explain, everything will be all right. He has to forgive me.

"I know that you left pregnant and you came back baby-less," Rose booms, making my heart fracture in my chest.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I bellow through my sobs. I Don't even realize I am crying, but the tears are hot on my cheeks.

"So what was it, Bella?" she demands, getting in my face. Again, I hate that I have to look up at her. My hands are shaking, and she needs to stop. She doesn't understand, and her accusations are killing me.

"Shut up!" I repeat, really crying now.

"Do I have a niece or nephew being raised by strangers somewhere across this glorious country?"

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" I scream.

"No, you're too selfish for the adoption route," she decides, still yelling. "It's much more likely you aborted the thing."

She called my baby a _thing_.

Without conscious thought, I hurl myself at Rosalie, slapping her face with one hand and strangling her with the other as I kick her shins. She shrieks, stunned for a moment before she retaliates by yanking on my hair.

But I don't feel it. My pain is much more acute. I've been living with the pain for two years.

Our catfight really only lasts for a couple of seconds before Jasper forces himself in between us. With a final growl, Rosalie marches off in the direction of her bedroom. Alice and Jasper gape at me in shock. A new disgust is apparent on their faces, but they don't really matter. The thoughts of only one person matters.

I turn quickly on the spot, searching out the green gaze of Edward, determined to explain, but he's already gone. I leap over Emmett's passed out body, sprint down the hall, scrambling around with my socks on the wooden floor. It takes me too long to get to the front door. By the time I throw it open, all I can see is the taillights of Edward's Volvo, disappearing down the street.

Happy fucking New Year.

* * *

December 6, 2008

"Rosalie!" I bellow as I step through the front door of the Goss house after finishing all my classes for the day. Edward is at the hospital, and I need Rose's help procuring his Christmas present before he gets home.

I've never really gotten him anything before aside from the random gift purchased or created on a whim. A CD in knew he would like. A huge ass coffee cup to full his caffeine habit. Nothing is even thought out and everything is spur of the moment. I wasn't planning on getting him anything for Christmas, but what I saw is so perfect, I can't not get it for him.

"Stop screaming at me, slut," she replies from the direction of the living room. I toss my jacket over the back of a chair along with my backpack before marching over to Rosalie. She's flipping through a gossip rag. How she manages to do so well in the notoriously hard engineering program is beyond me.

"Get up," I demand.

"What? Fuck no," she replies, scowling and putting her face back in the magazine.

"Please," I beg, kneeling down next to her, grabbing her hand and giving her the puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeease."

"Why?" she asks, still not looking at me.

"Rosalie, did you know that Edward plays the piano?" I ask, glancing at the wide leather watch on my wrist, frowning as the hands move to quickly for my liking.

"No, I didn't. What does this have to do with me moving from the couch?" she asks, raising a perfect blond eyebrow at me.

"Edward plays the piano," I continue, besieging her to listen me with my eyes. "Like really, really well. He's like a fucking musical genius, and he never plays anymore because we don't have a piano, and he is too busy with school and the hospital and me to go out in search for one, but he's like really, really good."

"What the fuck? Is he good at everything?" Rosalie says, apparently incensed. "Music, science..."

"Sex," I add to the list. Rosalie giggles hysterically.

"That must run in the family," she says when she gets a hold of herself. "And at least Edward has no social skills. That makes me feel better."

"Can we get back to the piano?" I ask, getting frustrated.

"What piano?"

"I was walking home today and there is this piano sitting on the curb with a sign stuck on it declaring its freeness. We need to bring it here. For Edward. For Christmas," I explain, feeling like an idiot. "We can hide in the man cave."

"Yeah," Rosalie says with a snort. "There is no reason for Edward to be in the man cave."

I refrain from punching her in the shoulder only because I need her help. "Rosalie. Please focus."

"You want me to help you carry a piano down the street?" she asks, sounding horrified.

"Well, roll. It has wheels. Is Emmett or Jazz home?" I ask, glancing around somewhat frantically.

"I thought you told Edward not to get you anything because you aren't getting him anything," Rose clarifies, finally having enough interest in the words coming out of my mouth to put her magazine down and give me her full and undivided attention.

"Rosalie, the piano is just fucking sitting there!" I'm completely exasperated at this point.

"Okay, okay," she says with a giggle. "It's just so much fun to see the emotionless Bella Swan all flustered over a guy, and if you punch me like I can tell you want to I'm so not helping you."

She is right. I am acting weird. I don't get emotional and have been a down right zombie since Charlie's death. But this opportunity to make Edward happy is right in front of me. I can't ignore it.

"So you'll help?" I ask, perking up immediately.

"Yes, puppy dog," she replies, patting my head condescendingly. "Em's in the man cave. Go get him."

Five minutes later, I'm dragging Rosalie and Emmett down the street, holding each of their wrists.

"What are we doing, again?" Emmett asks Rosalie, marching along behind me. "I don't think that I've ever seen Bella move this fast."

I'm focused on my undertaking, so I don't even care that they're talking about me like I'm not here.

"She's on a mission from God," Rosalie states simply.

"Okay, John Belushi," he says with a chuckle. "That really clarifies things."

"It's still here!" I yell in triumph before dropping the hands of my laborers and dashing over to the free piano.

"This is what we're searching for?" Emmett asks. "Why?"

"You know Edward plays the piano," I say absently pressing down on a few random keys. "And I know it's not a fucking grand baby or fancy or whatever like the one at your parent's house, and the keys are clipped and it's probably horribly out of tune… but something is better than nothing right?"

"You want to bring this home for Edward?" he asks.

"For Christmas," I mumble, blushing furiously. "I can hire someone to come tune it right? Unless you think it's stupid. It's probably stupid. Never mind. Let's just go with the original plan of not getting him shit—"

I'm prepared to keep babbling, but Emmett wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a bear hug. I squeak as he spins me around.

"It's perfect," he says. "Let's roll this thing."

Rosalie complains the whole time, until we get about a block away from home.

"I'm not used to you being this thoughtful," Rose says because she knows her words will piss me off.

"I'm not being thoughtful," I snap.

"You are so totally into Edward, your boyfriend," she continues.

"He's not my fucking boyfriend," I reply.

"Yeah, yeah," Emmett says dismissively.

"I mean it. I just happened upon this piano, it's not a big deal." I want to continue defending my honor but I am interrupted when the undeniable urge to vomit over comes me. The next thing I know, I'm hurling in the middle of the street.

"What the fuck?" screeches Rosalie.

"Gross," says Emmett with a laugh. "Seriously, Bella. What's wrong?"

"I have no idea," I reply, feeling completely bemused.

"Does the thought of actually dating my little brother make you sick?" asks Emmett.

"No," I say, shaking my head and standing from my crouched position. "I really don't know what happened. I feel okay now."

We all decide to ignore that bizarre little incident and manage to get the piano down into the basement. Edward never goes down there, so it will be a surprise come Christmas.

December 19, 2008

"If you could go anywhere, where would it be," Edward asks softly. We lie naked and wrapped around each other in his bed.

I've just graduated college. I am a college graduate. I have degrees in English Lit and Creative Writing. And I did it all a semester early, to save Phil some money.

I always thought I would feel more accomplished somehow. I'm the first in my family to graduate. But now I'm the only one left in my family, so maybe that's why I don't feel accomplished.

I should have spent the last few months lining up jobs and interviewing for internships. But I couldn't. I've been too busy being numb and caring even less then usual. The only time I feel anything real is when Edward touches my skin.

Like he is now.

"Anywhere?" I clarify.

"Anywhere," he nods.

"Africa," I reply immediately, closing my eyes and focusing on the sensation of Edward's fingers tracing over my skin.

"Really?" he asks, sounding curious. "And why is that?"

"I dunno."

"Yes you do," he presses.

"We're children of the rift," I murmur. "It's the motherland."

"That's a very good answer," he says, holding me tighter.

"Plus, I really like giraffes."

"Proof God has a sense of humor," Edward says.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I demand, thrown by his unexpected reply.

"My mom used to say that," he continues. "When we were little kids. She used to say that the church's version of God was too stuffy for her and all you had to do to see the proof of God's sense of humor was to get a good look at a giraffe. I mean, they are really funny looking."

"I don't think I believe in God," I say. "Do you?"

"I'm not really sure," he admits. "I believe in science and medicine. But I also believe the human body is a miracle. I believe that we are children of the rift, but also that creation had to start somewhere."

I like this answer so I kiss his shoulder because it is the closest bit of skin to my lips. I close my eyes and drift.

"So let's go," he says, bringing me back from the brink of sleep.

"Go where?"

"To the rift," he says. "What's that? Kenya? Ethiopia?"

"We can't just go to Africa," I say, chuckling.

"Why the hell not? You just graduated, I'm going to graduate in the spring. So let's just go," he murmurs in my ear.

I sigh heavily. The Edward-post-pones-grad-school-to-play-night-in-shining-armor-to-zombie-damsel debate is exhausting me. He's trying to save me by putting off school. I can't let my poison and living dead-ness prevent Edward from reaching his potential.

"You're going to grad school. You've already taken the GRE," I say warily.

"Fine. I'll go to school at UCD. We'll get an apartment together in Denver and you can write," he suggests for the zillionth time.

"I don't want you to be my sugar daddy," I tell him, rolling away and pulling my body into the fetal position.

"I wouldn't be your sugar daddy," he says with a laugh, spooning himself around me. "I would even let you help pay rent."

"You already basically are!" I insist.

"How so?" he asks, openly laughing at me now.

"You still haven't let me pay you back for the tickets back to Forks for… you know." I don't even want to think about that so I can't bring myself to talk about it. To talk about Charlie.

"I told you not to worry about that."

"And you have let me live here for months paying ridiculously low rent. I told you that I don't like being in debt. I don't want to owe you anything," I say sadly.

"Can we please not argue now?" he sighs. "It's time for sleep."

"Okay. No more arguing. But you are going to grad school next fall," I reply.

I feel his lips smile against the skin at the side of my neck. "Goodnight," he says.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

"I love you," he whispers.

"I know," I reply. What I mean is, I know he thinks he loves me, the poor delusional fool.

December 20, 2009

I'm late.

And not for a very important date.

I'm the horrifying, life-changing, vomit-inducing kind of late. The kind that requires big decisions. Big horrifying, life-changing, vomit-inducing decisions. I am so ridiculously late that I should have noticed the lateness weeks ago. But I didn't because I am a zombie moron more focused on graduation than the very obvious signs my body has been sending me.

It has practically been spelling it out in fucking neon lights, waring me that something is very, very wrong.

I stand in front of a shelf of pregnancy tests and curse the universe. Yet, on the bright side, at least I'm feeling something for the first time since my dad died.

Too bad its absolute panic.

The universe is a fickle bitch, and I would make a shit mother.

Shockingly, I've never had to do this before. Even with all the sex I've had, this has never happened to me. I've always been careful. I'm on the pill, and this shouldn't be happening. After standing still in aisle seven for a full twenty-five minutes, I grab a few boxes at random before walking single-mindedly to check out.

"Hello," says the pimply high school clerk. "How are you today?"

"Fine," I lie with a scowl.

"We'll I can't complain," he continues as I stare at him blankly. It seems I've lost all social skills since I connected the dots between my lack of period with all the puking I've been doing lately. "Especially when lovely ladies such as yourself choose my register."

I raise an eyebrow at him and abruptly drop my purchases on the conveyer belt. He balks and sputters a bit before ringing me up. I thrust some cash at him before getting the fuck out of there.

No one is around when I get back to the house on Goss. After drinking four cans of Rosalie's Diet Coke- something I realize later that is not good for the thing possibly growing inside me- I drag my sorry ass to the bathroom. I pee on three little sticks just to be sure. I have to be sure about this.

I line the pee sticks up on the counter and remain seated on the toilet, bent over with my head in my hands.

Rosalie barges in on me as I wait, and I almost fall the fuck into the bowl.

"Bella, can I borrow your… What the fuck?" She trails off and then yells at me, obviously seeing all her Coke cans and pregnancy test cardboard boxes and sticks on the counter.

"Get the fuck out," I grumble, head flopping forward into my hands again. It's suddenly too heavy to hold up. Like a baby. Oh God, I'm gonna puke.

Abruptly I leap off the toilet and empty the contents of my stomach.

"Holy shit," Rosalie mutters, closing the bathroom door behind her.

"Please leave," I beg, my head still in the bowl. I hate being this vulnerable. Especially around Rosalie, my twin believer in showing no weakness.

"Holy shit," she repeats. "What does blue mean?"

I groan again and vomit as Rose confirms my very worst fears. I hear Rose scrambling around, picking up the boxes and reading directions.

"Holy shit," she says again. "You're preg—"

"Do you even fucking say it," I yell, picking myself up off the floor and pulling my toothbrush out of the medicine cabinet.

"But—"

"Rose!" I gargle through a mouthful of Crest.

"What are you going to do?" she asks, ignoring all my requests.

I spit in the sink and attempt to still my shaking hands.

"I have no fucking clue," I respond, sighing heavily.

"Now that you're going to be a mom, you should really cuss less," she says matter of factly.

I punch her in the arm before puking again, making the whole tooth brushing thing a complete fucking waste of time and paste.

"You can't tell anyone," I mumble with my head back in the toilet. "Not Em, not Alice, and especially not Edward."

"But, Bells—" she ventures.

"Just promise, Rose," I insist.

"Fine. I'll promise if you promise to tell him eventually," she says. I want to argue, but she cuts me off. "This isn't just your kid, Bella. You have to tell him before you decide what to do."

"But, I—"

"I mean it! No sneaking off by yourself to Planned Parenthood," she says with a scowl.

"Fine. I promise."

December 25, 2008

I sit curled on a couch in the living room and clutching a mug of tea with one hand. Waldo is in my lap, and Edward sits in front of me, and I run my fingers through the hair at the back of his head as I observe the Christmas morning festivities.

Edward always gets me something far too extravagant. Last year it was the sleeping kitty in my lap, and this year it's a beautiful cameo pendant necklace.

He doesn't know about the piano is in the basement yet.

I watch everyone revel in the Christmas spirit in silence. I always feel separate from my friends, and the holidays are worse. Especially this year. Carlisle and Esme flew in several days ago, and all the family-ness is making me feel ill. Well, ill-er. I went to the Black's for Christmas Eve, but tonight I have to sit through dinner with the Cullens and even worse the Hales.

I just keep looking at all of them, wondering how they will act when they find out. Although they will make a great family for my baby, I doubt I'll ever feel accepted.

Esme will probably be so disappointed in her perfect little son. For the most part, people hear about the dead Dad and awol Mom thing, and pretty much leave me alone. But Esme isn't like that. She pushes me, tries to engage me in deep conversation. If Edward is around, he saves me from his mother. Plus I don't mind sticking close to him.

Rosalie's parents are here too. John and Marlene have always disliked me. I was the kid from the wrong side of the tracks, an early form of Rosalie's rebellion against her parent's lavish lifestyle. I am sure they were thrilled when Rose and I stopped hanging out sophomore year of high school, and now they are polite to me but still turn up their noses in distaste. They are cold and superior. Edward doesn't like them either, but they rest of the Cullen get along with the Hales just fine. They come from the same world.

It's like a game of Guess Which Thing is Not Like the Other in this living room. The easiest round ever. I'm in leggings, thick socks with frogs on them, and an oversized flannel shirt of Edward's. Even the casual Christmas morning attire of the rest of them is classy. They look put together. I look like a hobo.

All the presents are unwrapped and everyone disperses. Rose and Esme retreat to the kitchen to cook Christmas dinner. The boys wander into the living room. Edward starts to get up, but I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, come with me downstairs?" I ask quietly. I'm oddly nervous about showing him the piano. Esme glances at us, but I ignore her questioning stare as Edward nods, looking a little surprised. I've been avoiding him since finding out, and he knows something's up, but I think he is attributing my silence and distance to the holiday.

Last year I was with Charlie, and somehow December makes me miss him even more.

"Into the man cave?" he asks, with a chuckle as I lead him down the stairs. "I can't even remember the last time I was down here."

"Oh, I know," I reply clutching his hand as we walk down the stairs.

"There are less smelly parts of the house to steal a private moment," he teases. He actually makes a good point. The basement is pretty much Emmett and Jasper's domain. There's a foosball table, a Boflex, a mini refrigerator full or beer, and drawer full of bud. The carpets are old and thin. The lighting is poor and the air is drafty. Edward rarely has a reason to venture down here, so it was the perfect hiding place.

"Just close your eyes," I tell him when we reach the base of the stairs. Sighing, he does as he's told. "No peaking," I scold.

I grab his hand and lead him over to where the used piano sits under the only window in the basement. I pull out the piano bench and force him to sit. Latching onto his wrists, I place his hands on the chipped keys. It's a little difficult to maneuver with the lazy cat still in my arms.

"What… Is this?" he presses the keys before opening his eyes. His mouth pops open and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares down at his fingers on the keys before turning his shocked gaze to me. "You got me a piano."

I nod, still uncertain about my decision. He just keeps staring at me, and his fingers softly spin out a melody.

"It was just sitting on the side of the road," I explain in a rush, feeling embarrassed. "These people were moving and didn't want to bring it with them, I guess. I know its nothing fancy and the keys are all chipped on the ends and the varnish is peeling and you hate this basement but there is nowhere else to put it. I can get Emmett to help me wheel it back out to the curb if you—"

"Sit down, Isabella," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. Edward scoots over, leaving room for me on the piano bench. Letting Waldo jump out of my arms, I slide in next to him. Again, he stares at me for longer than necessary. I force myself to hold his gaze, as much I don't want to. He's making me feel a bit nauseous with the intense look on his face.

But that could be the whole baby thing. Holy fuck. I've been trying not to think about it. I know there are things to be done, decisions to be made, but I am giving myself a little time before I freak out entirely.

After a few minutes, I can't take it so I look down in my lap prompting him to finally do something. His palms cradle my face, and he kisses me tenderly. I feel all the stuff I normally feel when his lips touch mine, along with a whole lot of warmth in the region of my heart. I like making him happy.

"Thank you," he murmurs against my lips. I blush and punch him half-heartedly in the arm.

"Just play something, sweetheart," I reply, closing my eyes and resting my head against his shoulder. I wrap my arms around his waist, and basically melt into him as he coaxes beautiful music from the crappy instrument.

I get lost in his music. Occasionally, he apparently makes a mistake and curses himself for being out of practice, but he sounds perfect to me. It's like I have no concept of time, here with Edward when he plays. I don't think about the baby, about what the fuck I'm going to do with my life, about Edward's constant desire to put off his life to fix mine.

I curve my body around his, keeping my cheek against the back of his shoulder blade as to not disturb his piano playing. I'm sure I look ridiculous and clingy and needy, but I don't care.

At some point, I open my eyes to see Esme emerge at the bottom of the stairs. She looks confused at first, but she must seeing something she approves of on my face because she gives me a small smile before disappearing up the staircase.

December 30, 2008

I find myself standing alone in front of Planned Parenthood. I need answers. Definitive answers and options. I need someone to ground me with some medical facts.

My first instinct was to get the big A, save us all the trouble. I would be a shit mother. I can't raise a kid. I have no real example of how parents act. Having a baby is absolutely not an option.

Or so I thought at first.

But as weeks went by, this image a chubby cheeked, bronzed haired little bundle of joy formed in my head. It calls to me, hangs out with me in dreams. The appeal both shocks and frightens me. But I want it. A baby can be my redemption. Maybe if I can give my baby a good life, I can make up for my past mistakes. I can make up for Renee's. I can heal.

Most of all, a baby can't leave. I have the guarantee of at least a decade. The kid won't leave me. It will depend on me too much. All I have to do is raise it right and love it, and then hopefully it will never want to leave me.

The idea of having flesh and blood ties to someone other than my mother is highly appealing. And I sure as shit would never leave it, but I might fuck it up some other way. The idea of ruining a little innocent baby is terrifying.

And then there's Edward.

He's the one part of all this I don't have any doubts about. I'm not scared to tell him. I'm not scared that he'll bail on me. Edward will be a great father, loving and attentive and nurturing. He'll love this baby. He'll take care of us. Edward will be thrilled to bring a little life into this world. Together. With me.

And that's the fucking terrifying part. Our lives would be forever linked if we had this baby. The immensity of that thought alone makes me want to never see the man again.

I'm at Planned Parenthood, because I have to make sure before I tell Edward.

He still doesn't know because I can't bring myself to tell him. Like I said, I am not scared, its more that I if I tell him, all this becomes real. I'm still not totally sure if I want it to be real or not. In theory, I don't. But logic can't explain how I already feel about the thing growing inside me. I've come close, many times, but the words get stuck on my tongue.

Edward noticed that I've stopped smoking and drinking. He thinks I'm trying to be all healthy. It would have been a perfect time to come clean, but I fucking chickened out.

So I made an appointment at Planned Parenthood, because I need to know for sure.

"Isabella Swan," a nurse calls after I finally manage to force my feet to carry me into the office. I leap up and follow her into the back quickly. The women in the waiting room are sad and pathetic and I don't want to be around them anymore. In a few months, I might be just like them.

They take my weight and my height and make me change into a gown and sit me on an examination table. The wait isn't too long.

"Hello, Isabella," says the dark haired doctor, glancing down at my chart to confirm my name. "I'm Dr. Meyer."

"Sup," I reply, shaking her hand.

"So what can we do for you today?" she asks, sitting on the rolling stool and crossing her long legs.

"Um… well… uh… I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant," I blurt, blushing like a fucking tomato. I can't believe I'm this girl. The idiot girl who has a baby right out of college. If I even have this baby.

How the fuck did this even happen? I've been on the pill since I was fourteen. And I take that sucker religiously.

"Pretty sure?" she asks, looking slightly amused.

"Well… I took like three pregnancy tests and they came out negative. I mean positive. Uh… the results were positive but I felt negative about… Anyway." I take a deep calming breath. "I just wanted to make sure its for sure before I tell my…"

"Boyfriend?" she ventures, causing me to blush.

"Sort of," I mumble.

"Baby's father?" she suggests again.

"Yeah, does this really matter?" I snap, getting impatient.

And then the exam happens. And the reassuring smile falls off the face of my lady doc at the very beginning of the ultra sound. And then she tells me that my baby is gone.

Disappeared.

At first I don't believe her. Aside from the nausea and the fear, I've felt find. No painful cramps. No scary bleeding.

She nods at me consolingly, reiterating that thing growing inside me is indeed gone. She can't locate a heart beat, and I may experience some cramping and bleeding in the next couple of days.

Apparently this happens. Apparently it's really not all that rare.

I should feel relief. I should be happy.

Nothing has to change. I don't have to tell Edward. There are no big decisions to make. My life will stay the same.

Why do I feel like this is a very bad thing?

December 31, 2008

"Bella, I am by no means complaining, but what's wrong?" he asks, totally killing the mood.

With a frustrated growl, I roll off and flop onto my back next to a mostly naked Edward. I lie there with my eyes closed and fists clenched, counting backwards from ten in a valiant attempt to not punch him repetitively. My chest heaves with my anger and lust.

"Bella…" he says cautiously when my breathing settles.

"It's nothing," I snap, attempting to get out of bed. He puts an arm around my waist, preventing me from moving.

"You have been insatiable for the last two days," he says softly as if he's talking to some sort of frightened animal. "You don't talk to me. It seems like every time I open my mouth you jump me."

"So? Excuse me for wanting to fuck you," I reply, jerking out of his grasp.

"I told you I'm not complaining." He's trying to pacify me, and his understanding only makes me madder. "And do you have to call it that? It's so vulgar."

"Oh?" I reply with false sweetness. "And what would you like to call it, prude boy?"

"Making love?"

I growl in response.

"It's just concerning," he continues. "I know it has been a rough couple of months for you with your dad. But something has changed in the last couple weeks. You're different. Even more closed off and quiet. And sad. Please just talk to me, Bella. What happened?"

"Nothin'. Same old same old." My voice is unconvincing to my own ears.

He wraps his arm around me, hugging me from behind. I close my eyes and turn to throw my arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," I whimper pathetically against his skin.

"For what?" He is pleading with me to share with him. To let him shoulder the load. And I want to. So ridiculously much. But I can't. I just can't.

"I just don't know what I'm doing with myself anymore," I confess.

"It's okay, love," he says, rocking me slightly. "We have all the time in the world. We'll figure it out."

I nod my head and try to believe him while ignoring that familiar feeling of suffocation that makes me want to bolt.

The guilt seems to be eating me from the inside out. It's my fault our baby disappeared. I don't want him to feel all the pain I'm feeling, so as much as I want to confide in him, I don't. I can't. For once in my life, I do the selfless thing and keep the hurt to myself.

"Bella? Hello?" I jump slightly as I become aware of Jake waving a pipe in my face. Since the disappearance, I've had a hard time focusing on anything else. The only thing that can make it better is Edward. Preferably sex with Edward, because during sex he can't ask me the hard questions.

"Sorry," I mutter, accepting the pipe and lighting it twice before passing it to Jasper. Edward looks at me in concern, but sips his drink and says nothing.

"Where has your head been at lately, girl?" Jake asks with a chuckle.

I shrug and finish off my drink. Edward does the same, and for once is drinking just as heavily as I am. Maybe he's just really into the New Year. Maybe he's picked up on my apocalyptic mood.

Almost everyone I care about is here. Alice and Jasper, still in newlywed mode. Emmett and Rosalie, being as disgusting with the over the top PDA as usual. Jake, Embry, Quil, Sam, Emily. Angela and Ben. Even Kate and Garrett.

They all look so happy and normal and sure of themselves. Even Edward, despite his fucking concern for me is so obviously happy.

Everyone is laughing and dancing. Partaking in drinking games and chatting enthusiastically. They are happy. I can't relate to them at all.

Edward is pretty hammered by midnight. His kiss is sloppy, and I giggle as he picks me up and stumbles around with me in his arms. I hug him tightly and breathe him in and he lets me go far to quickly.

But when he steps away to hug his brother and twin, I just can't handle it. I need air. I can't breathe.

I killed our baby. I killed the one thing that had to stick around.

So I go for a walk, pulling my leather bomber jacket over the slinky blue party dress Alice forced me into and grabbing my purse. The cold winter air instantly calms me, and I walk.

Boulder is alive. Drunk people stumble everywhere, celebrating the end of 2008. I wander and find myself walking down Pearl Street. People bar hop, and I like watching them. I sit myself down on a sculpture of a squirrel that's part of a playground. Reclining against the tail, I light a cigarette and look at the stars, glad it's a clear night.

I don't know what do to with myself. I'm fucking drowning. Have been for a while now, but this is just unbearable. My skin itches with my desire to be anyone but me. I hate me. I'm a selfish, poisonous, baby killing shrew. It's my fault the baby disappeared. My womb is a corrupt as the rest of me. I can barely survive in here, there is no way a baby could too.

What am I going to do now?

"Well, hello there." I sit up and turn around at the sound of the familiar voice. James, of all people, stands behind me with a cigarette and a smirk. The years since I've seen him have not changed him at all. He wears his hair in the same haircut, the same beat leather jacket covers his shoulders, and his blue eyes twinkle with mischief.

It's shocking, how pleased I am to see him, and I feel my face pull into a smile.

"James," I reply, standing from my squirrel. We appraise each other as I approach, pulling out another cigarette and accepting his light. "Long time no see, buddy."

"Yeah, where the hell have you been?" he replies, still grinning.

I shrug and smoke.

"You don't look so good," he murmurs, cocking his head to the side as he studies me.

"Fuck you very much," I reply without any heat.

"Seriously, Swan. You look like you've been through the wringer."

Again, I just shrug. He gets so close that there is only an inch or two of space between us. I have to crane my neck to look in his face. He's almost as tall as Edward. He touches my face with the tips of his fingers, and I glare up at him, but don't jerk away.

Why don't I jerk away?

"Did your whole world fall apart, baby girl?" he whispers.

I shudder in response to his very accurate description.

"What are you doing with yourself these days?" he presses when I don't speak.

"I seriously have no fuckin' clue anymore."

"Yeah, the monotony is wearing on me too," he says, continuing to touch my face with surprisingly gentle fingers. "I gotta go."

"Go where?" I ask.

"Anywhere but here," he replies. "But eventually, Florida."

"Florida?" I ask, skeptical of this bizarre destination.

"Buddy of mine knows this chick who lives down there. She's going to let us stay with her if we fix up her house and land and shit," he explains.

I nod.

"We're going to take a couple months to get there, see some of America and fuck around." I'm oddly jealous of James and his ability to escape it all. I want that. I want to drop everything and start over. I want to be someone else with zero cares, zero responsibilities, zero commitments.

"Interested?" he asks.

"Yes," I hear myself replying.

"Leavin' tonight," he says. "Well, I'm going to Denver tonight. Hittin' the open highway in the morn."

"Is this an invitation?" I ask, feeling strangely hopeful. Maybe it's the Renee in me. Maybe it's the traumatizing effect of all the shit that's happened lately, but I need it. I have to leave. Suddenly, in my drunken, hazy state, this departure seems like the perfect solution.

Edward would never willingly let me go. Even though I am a poisonous baby killer, he won't give up on me. But if I leave, he will have to. He will be forced to live the life he's meant for without my corrupting influence. And sure, it may hurt at first. But with me gone, I know he will eventually see that I was no good for him. That my absence from his life is for the best.

I'm trying to be less selfish, and as much as I want to be with Edward, I can't keep dragging him down. And as much as I want him, I can't seem to breath right in the life I've created here with him. Maybe if I leave I'll learn how to breathe right.

James grins and nods.

"Do you ever want to get away from it all, Isabella?" he asks.

"Give me an hour to gather my shit," I reply.

It takes slightly more than an hour, but not much. I'm on autopilot. I don't let myself think. Thinking would lead to guilt and fear, and I don't want to change my mind. I grab only what I can stuff into a large army issue duffle, my backpack, and a leather purse. I purposely leave anything that will remind me too much of my life here.

For a moment, I think about leaving Edward a note, telling him I'm sorry for hurting him, but that is a bit too much like my mother, so I write a note to Alice instead, suggesting she gives all my shit to Goodwill.

I don't know what's worse, knowing that he will hurt or letting him go. Either way, I'm hurting him to save him from me.

I grab my moleskin and my iPod and don't even look back when I leave the house on Goss for the last time.

I've promised to meet James back on Pearl, and I feel a little ridiculous, lugging my crap through the throngs of drunk people, celebrating the New Year. Thankfully, my squirrel is still available, so I pop a squat to wait for James.

Instead I see Jake.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I demand. "Isn't there a party raging at your house?"

"Naw, pretty much everyone has cleared out," he explains. "I wasn't ready for the night to be over so I came out with the hardcore."

Edward couldn't possibly be one of the hardcore, but my stomach drops anyway. I can't see him. I know he isn't going to be happy about this, even if my departure is for the best. Seeing him upset will hurt too much. Seeing him will make it impossible for me to leave him.

"Hey, your boy was kinda freaking out. Seems like you just disappeared," he continues, not yet noticing my bags.

My stomach twists in knots at this statement, but I squash down all the panic I feel at the prospect of surviving without Edward.

"That's kinda the idea," I admit, wishing James would fucking show up already.

"What?"

I sigh heavily, realizing I will have no choice but to try to explain. It's difficult, because I can't really even explain my need to leave to myself.

"Jacob," I say, standing to face my best friend. "I'm leaving."

"Okay, yeah that's probably wise. Edward was real drunk and real upset that he couldn't find you. Jazz and Em had to basically carry him home," Jake drunkenly babbles. "I guess I'll just see you tomorrow. Twilight Zone Marathon, am I right? Rosalie promised to bake things."

"No, Jacob," I snap, losing patience. "I'm leaving Boulder."

"That's weird," he replies. "Where will you go?"

"Dunno," I say. "I just can't stay here."

It takes a few more minutes, but Jake finally seems to understand what I'm doing. He hugs me for five years and cries into my hair when he realizes that he doesn't know when he'll see me again. Jake spends the next few minutes trying to get me to change my mind. I don't, and I sigh in relief when James finally shows up.

"You've leaving with this creep?" Jake demands. "What the fuck are you thinking? Are you sure about this, Bells?"

He sounds desperate, and I have to look away in shame.

"Yes," I murmur.

"And I'm not a creep," James interjects.

"What am I going to tell Edward? Did you even talk to him about this?" Jake asks, starting to panic.

"No," I say, shaking my head. I'm a moment away from having Jake tell Edward that I'm sorry, but I remember the pain and anger of Renee's notes. "Tell him to go to grad school. Tell him that it's for the best. Tell him to have a good life."

"Come on," James insists, tugging on my hand. "Time to roll out."

"Don't do this, Bells," Jake pleas. "You're going to crush him. And what about me? What am I going to do without you?"

I close my eyes as James pulls me away. I don't let myself look back.


	22. A Year in the Life of Isabella Swan

**Dang. I was crazy nervous about posting the last chapter but I am thrilled with the response! Thank you all so much for reading and recing and reviewing. I love hearing what you all think. So thanks for all the reviews.**

**Anyway, this chapter kinda got away from me. It's a wee bit long but explains some more about where the hell Bella's been that last two years.**

**Also, I should really be finishing my term paper on comparing the effect of Nazi occupation on the Jews of Poland and the Jews in France. Finishing this may effect my grade! So you should probably review.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

January 2, 2011

"Dude, really?" booms Emmett from outside my apartment door. "Are you really not going to let us in?"

I just scowl at the door and continue to sip my beverage. This time I didn't even bother with a mixer. Frankly, I don't even know why I found the glass necessary. I have literally been drowning my woes for the last few hours, once I ran out of schoolwork to keep my mind occupied.

"Little twin." Alice's voice now. "Just open the door. No one has heard from you in two days! We are worried. Seriously, Edward at least grunt or something to let us you are not dead in your own vomit."

Perhaps if I just stay silent, they will think I'm not home.

"And we know you are fucking home," she continues. "I talked to Ben as he was leaving the building. So unless you jumped out a window—"

"Shit, Ali," interrupts Emmett. "Don't give him any ideas. OW!"

"Don't even joke about that, asshole!" yells Alice. "Our little brother is in there and he is majorly hurting."

This is why I don't want to let them in. If I let them in there will be talking, and the last thing I want to do is talk. I just want to be left alone with my bottle of Jack.

"I know!" replies Emmett. "I fucking know!"

"You don't really know. You were passed the fuck out when all this shit went down. You didn't see him face when we found out about…" She trails off, and I grimace, finishing my drink and taking another right out of the whiskey bottle.

"Believe me, I heard all about it from Rose," says Emmett.

"Oh, don't even get me started on _Rose." _Alice spits out the name with a surprising amount of venom. "That was a real nice way for Edward to find out. She really broke it to him easy."

"Alice, lay off. I've talked to her about it. She was drunk as shit, and has had a real hard time keeping it a secret for all these years. It really ate at her."

"Well maybe she should have fucking said something, oh, I don't know, about two fucking years ago! Doesn't that seem like a opportune time to speak up, Emmett?"

I think about turning up Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 6 in B minor Op. 74, Pathétique, to drown them out, but that would require standing. I don't have the energy for anything other than drinking heavily.

"She was in a difficult position," Emmett defends. "Plus it wouldn't have changed anything. She would have still been gone, and Edward would have been even more miserable."

"Oh, kinda like he is now?" Alice counters.

"We don't know how he is," Emmett replies. I can tell by the strain in his voice that he is quickly losing patients with our sister. "He won't open the door."

"Whatever," snaps big twin. "Rosalie is a fucking coward for blurting it out like that and then refusing to come here and help us fix it. As far as I'm concerned, its half her fault anyway."

"Oh, yeah," yells Emmett, obviously pissed now. "Let's blame my girlfriend for being honest. It certainly isn't the fault of the girl who left to abort Edward's kid!"

And now I'm no my feet, tottering over to the door in rage. They are forcing me to think about it, and I can't think about it.

"Bella fucked the fuck up," continues Emmett just as I rip the door open. Unfortunately, I use too much force and forget to let go of the doorknob so I swing away with it, falling over into a potted plant.

"Don't fucking say 'er name!" I slur up at my siblings, taking in the sudden change in my position with bemusement.

They gape don't at me in shock, still frozen in the entryway.

I struggle along to remove myself from the plant, but am unable to do so. Emmett finally snaps out of it and leans down to pull me to my feet. Once he has me right sided, I yank my arm out of his grasp and march back over to my couch and my Jack. I take another long draw, and I hear the door shut behind me.

"Holy mother of pearl," yells Alice. "Are you drunk?"

Without turning to face her I just shrug and collapse face first onto the sofa.

"Dude," says Emmett with concern. "It's not even two in the afternoon. What are you thinking?"

"Nothin' else to do," I explain, flipping over onto my back and stretching out. "Finish all my school shit but my brain won't turn off. Drivin' me crazy!"

"That's why were here," says Alice, kneeling next to me and taking my hand as I look on in horror. Her face just oozes sympathy and pity, two things I don't need from her. I've got plenty of it for myself. "We'll talk the whole thing out, big twin. Don't worry."

Usually Alice and I are so in sync. The whole twin thing must be malfunctioning because talk is the last thing I want to do.

So instead of speaking, I guzzle unhealthy amounts of whiskey before handing the bottle to Alice.

"Edward," she admonishes. "You are going to be miserable in a couple hours."

"Already there, big twin," I slur. "If ya aren't gonna drink it pass it."

"I'm not drinking it! I'm here to talk to you! Help you feel better," she insists, scowling at me now.

"No whiskey for you," I reply, snatching it out of her hand. "Em?" I say, offering it to my brother. I grin when he accepts and takes a sip, grimacing as he does so.

"That aboy," I say as I give him a salute.

"Edward," Alice tries again, really exasperated now. "Please stop this madness. Let's talk."

"Hell no," I declare. "This is a no talky zone."

"But—"

"Nope," I say. "None of that. You can join me in a drink but you can't talk."

Alice looks to Emmett who shrugs before sighing heavily and nodding.

"Just one drink," Alice replies, moving to the kitchen to get glasses.

"I told you to be patient, I told you to be fine." An hour later Emmett and I sit side by on the floor with our backs against the couch, power singing alone with the Bon Iver emenating softly from my MacBook. "I told you to be balanced, I told you to me kind."

We slur our words and my head rests on Emmett shoulder while me softly sing and watch Alice twirl around the room. She has a mostly empty bottle of one hand and hasn't opened her eyes in at least fifteen minutes. Alice spins languidly around the room, like some sort of haunting ballerina figurine from a child's jewelry box. My eyes follow big twin's movements as I continue to sing with my brother.

"Come on skinny love, what happened here," we sing, Emmett terribly off key.

"Yah know," he says, breaking all the rules about talking. I lift my head in an attempt to scowl at him, but I'm sufficiently wasted at this point and can't find it in me to care. "Skinny, skinny love. You know who is skinny?"

"B… Bella?" I venture, hiccupping slightly.

"Yup. Skinny, skinny Bella."

"She's skinny because there is no baby in there," I say, allowing my heavy head to flop back to his shoulder.

"No baby no where," Emmett agrees, sounding almost as sad as I do.

"Gone baby, gone," I mutter.

"Hey!" yells Alice, rounding on us and basically falling into my side. I open my eyes to stare at her, but everything is fuzzy, so I close one to bring her frowning face into focus. "This shit is against the rules. No talking."

"I'm just sayin'," continues Emmett, ignoring the short one while I steal her bottle of one and drain it in one long gulp. "Has anyone actually talked to her."

"Nope," replies Alice, shaking her head. The short spikes of her hair poke me in the good eye, so I can't see all over again. "Edward?"

"Nope," I say.

"I can't believe she hasn't tried to talk to you," mutters Emmett. "To at least try to explain. You deserve to know what happened. What a bitch."

I think about yelling at him for that, but I refrain. "She's called," I slur, gesturing vaguely in the direction of where I left my phone in the kitchen. "But I can't."

"Maybe this is a miscommunication," whimpers Alice, sounding like she is really crying now. I can't tell for certain because I can't see. "Maybe she can explain it away. I want it to be a miscommunication."

"Its not," I say. "It explains everything. I understand why she left now at least."

"Oh, Edward!" Alice sobs. This pity is back and the rule must be reinstated.

"No talking!" I demand. Alice, for once in our lives, keeps her mouth shut, and we go back to the singing. We sit there, on the floor and against my couch, singing quietly to Death Cab, Iron & Wine, and Damian Rice. It's highly depressing, and I think Alice is still crying. I'm on the verge of sleep when the pounding on my front door starts against.

"Bella?" I ask when I am jolted into reality by the nose, confused from a combination of sleep and alcohol.

"What the hell is going on in there?" demands a familiar voice from the hallway that prompts Alice to squeak and sprint toward the door. She throws it open and hurls herself into Jasper's arms.

"Jazz!" she sobs, her little body shaking as she cries. "Don't ever leave me."

Jasper blinks at her in shock before carrying her into the apartment and shutting the door behind him. He lifts Alice higher, her little feet dangling listlessly as he strokes her hair.

"Baby," he coos. "What has your brother gotten in this pretty little head of yours? I will never leave you. I wouldn't last two minutes on my own, plus I love you too damn much."

She hiccups as nods, loosening the grasp she has on his neck as he sets her back on her feet. Jazz keeps big twin in the crook of his arm as he leads her to sit on a love seat opposite Emmett and I.

"What the fuck is going on?" he demands, glaring at us as Alice continues to calm down. "They came up here hours ago to make sure you were okay!"

"'m not," I reply.

"I can see that," Jasper says, shaking his head and surveying the collection of empty liquor bottles on the side table. "Seriously, is this apartment some sort of black hole for cell service? You two disappeared hours ago and were supposed to be home hours ago and not one of you has the decency to answer your phone!"

"Fuck," mutters Emmett, lumbering to his feet and searching under pillows for his cell. "Rose is going to kill me."

"Yeah she is," agrees Jazz. "I was sent here to make sure nothing terrible happened and to bring you two back to Boulder. "

"Leaving so soon?" I inquire. "But the party is just gettin' started. Drink?"

"No, we all have to get to work in the morning," Jasper replies, shaking his head at me again. "Not all of us have another week off before getting' back to the real world."

"Oh Jasper," I say with a sigh. "Believe me, I'm in the fucking real world. And it sucks, thus my offer of a drink."

"Please, Jazz?" Alice whispers, blinking her big, wet eyes up at her husband. "Lets stay for a little while longer. Little twin doesn't want to be alone."

"Fine," Jasper aggress, sighing heavily. "Just one drink."

An alarm is ringing on the periphery of my dream, and I instinctually reach out for Bella. Already, I'm used to sharing a bed with her again, and in my half awake state, I'm really upset that I'm not touching her. I search for her, not out of sexual desire but the need for the comfort her warmth offers.

I love her. I need her.

But when I do finally locate Bella in my bed, something is off. Instead of smooth skin and the shivers, all I feel is massive muscle, and even more disturbing, hair.

"If it's gay is it still incest?" a voice asks. My eyes fly open and I take in the sigh on my hand grasping Emmett's hair man calf. I glance down to the foot of the bed where I see my brother, propped up on one elbow and staring at me with bleary eyes.

And then I remember everything and really wish I were still asleep. Or drunk.

"Sorry, Em," I croak out, releasing his leg and rolling over onto my back. I scrub my hands over my face before glancing at the clock. "What the fuck? It's six o'clock in the fucking morning! Why the fuck am I awake right now?"

"Guess at some point I had the where with all to set the alarm on my phone," Emmett explains, fusing with his cell and thankfully silencing the piercing alarm. "I gotta go to work."

"How did we end up in bed together?" I ask, closing my eyes again because the little bit of light of Emmett's phone is too bright for my eyes to handle.

"I have no fucking clue," replies Emmett with a groan. "But it's fucking pathetic. I would much rather be at home with my girlfriend than sharing a bed with my baby brother."

Bella is also at that home of which Emmett speaks. And I will never be able to crawl into bed with her again without hating myself after.

"I think I need another drink," I mutter.

"Don't be like that, dude," says Emmett as he gets out of bed. I open one eye and see that he is only in his boxers.

"Why aren't you wearing pants?" I demand.

"I never wear pants to bed, bro," he says, pulling on the garment in question. "And neither do you."

I quickly take stock and see that I am also pantsless.

"Get your lazy ass out of bed," he demands, throwing my pants in my face. "I can't figure out your fancy coffee contraption."

"It's a French press," I mutter, but I get out of bed anyway because my brother is an idiot and I know he will break my press. Those things aren't cheap

Wincing as the light hits our eyes, Emmett and I stumble out of my room. Alice and Jasper are curled together on my couch, and Emmett throws a pillow at them.

"Fuck!" shouts Jazz, sitting up as Alice groans face down in the sofa. "Oh, two fast. My head." Jasper lays his head back down.

"Are you hung over?" I ask, not remember him having more than a drink or two. But there is really not a lot that I remember at all about last night.

"Yeah," Jazz replies. "Fuck all of you for pouring booze down my throat, and fuck you Edward for making the vibe in here so depressing that its impossible to not drink."

"You can think Bella for that one when we get home," says Em causing my whole body to tense.

"Remember the rules, Emmett?" I demand.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry bro. Coffee now!"

The circus clears out of my apartment half an hour later, and I go back to bed. When I wake up around three in the afternoon, I realize that I have absolutely nothing to do so I start drinking all over again.

January 6, 2011

"Edward! You open this door right now!" I groan as the banging interrupts my drunken brooding, and I flip towards the back of the couch, burying my face in a cushion.

Why can't the people just leave me alone?

"I mean it, Edward!" the voice continues to yell. "No ones heard form you in a week! Ben says whenever he's home you don't leave your room and we start school in two days!"

"Go the fuck away," I growl out, tossing a book in the general direction of the front door.

"Let me in! I'm not going anywhere."

After five more minutes of endless pounding, I drag my sorry ass off the couch and stumble blindly toward the door. Ignoring the incessant thumping is exhausting so I throw it open to see Tia. I glare at her, and she glares right back before pushing past me, entering the apartment. Grumbling incoherently, I decide to ignore her presence and make my way back to my couch. I like my couch. It demands nothing from me and always tells the truth.

Every time I see my couch, there is no risk of some new horrifying fact to become known, effectively destroying me.

"What happened to you?" Tia asks, apparently appalled at my state. Which is valid seeing as I haven't showered in a week and have been drunk so often that the alcohol is basically seeping out of my pours.

I shrug my shoulders and recline comfortably against a pillow.

"You smell terrible. No wonder Ben has been basically living at Angela's," Tia says, taking in the dump that is my apartment. Normally, I'm a neat freak. Normally, I can't stand clutter or dirty dishes. But times are not normal. Nothing is going to be normal again because Bella did something terrible to our baby.

"Don't particularly care," I mumble.

"Are you planning on going to school Monday?" she asks.

"Don't fucking know," I reply, shrugging again.

"Edward!" she says, startled by my language and response, I suppose. "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't talk about it, Tia," I tell her with a sigh. She cautiously approaches me and sits in an armchair by my feet.

"What did she do to you?" Tia asks, sounding livid.

"Perpetually hurting me for the last six years. And I've let her," I whine somewhat pathetically.

"What did she do now?" Tia corrects.

"I'm starting to get a more complete picture of the events prompting her departure," I say, pleased with how scientific and normal I sound. If I can detach myself emotionally from the situation and reason my way through with facts and logic, everything will be all right.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we started having sex at the very end of freshmen year," I continue, mapping out our relationship, noticing and ignoring Tia's flinch. "We stayed together all of sophomore year, she abandoned me in Forks that summer, and then we got back together at the beginning of junior year. We were together for the rest of junior year and all summer. It was good. There was rarely a night we were apart. We adopted a cat and met each other's parents and shared everything. Or at least I shared everything. She was getting better. She was letting me in, making plans with me, calling me sweetheart. She let me tell her I loved her, didn't freak out when I referred to her in public as my girlfriend. And then right after her twenty-second birthday, her dad died.

"It broke her," I murmur, pinching the bridge of my nose. My mouth won't stop moving, spewing all my thoughts as I drunkenly make connections and try to figure out what I'm feeling. I forget Tia's there at all, and I just talk. "Broke her more. I mean, she was already the most broken person I've ever met, but this… She was a zombie. And I couldn't fix it. And I felt like I was losing her, so I just clung tighter. I pushed for more than she was ready for. Moving in together and putting off grad school to spend more time with her. Well she did not like that at all, and we were fighting more than usual. But she got me a piano for Christmas so she obviously cared for me. I play the piano, by the way."

"Edward—" Tia's attempt to irrupt me is ignored.

"But then she was gone. On New Year's Eve. She kissed me at midnight, and then went outside to smoke a bowl. She didn't come back. Jake found me hours later and told me that she left. She left with… Well, that doesn't even matter.

"I never really understood. I got that she was broken. That her mom abandoned her and her dad died. I got that she didn't want me putting off school for her and that she was scared to take the next step with me, but she'd been living with that for a long time. Sometimes I thought that I made it all up. The way she seemed to need me like she didn't need anyone else. But she's back. She cares. I'm pretty sure she loves me, in her own limited way.

"I get it now," I continue, getting to the part that's still too fresh for me to be emotionally detached. "Last week, on New Year's of course, Rosalie comes home. Drunk and mad. She started screaming at me for letting Bella back into my life. Things escalated and it comes out that… God. I can't even say it."

"Say what, Edward?" I jump a little at the sound of Tia's voice.

"A fact came out, that completely explains her departure. It's the missing piece. All my questions are answered… But now I don't think I can ever forgive her," I say, really believing it for the first time. There will be no recovery from this.

But now I understand. She had to disappear because she didn't want me involved.

She said it herself. She doesn't have the words to make it better because nothing can.

"She cries now, Tia," I say, like that explains something.

"Edward, I want to help you. I hate seeing you so miserable, but I don't know Bella. I don't know anything about your relationship. To be honest, most of what you just said went over my head," she says, leaning over to rest a hand on my shin. Tia looks scared and desperate. Lord, I must be even more of a mess than I even realize.

"There was… she was… we were gonna…"

"Edward, just say it," she says, sounding frustrated.

"A baby," I burst out, feeling slightly like my head is going to explode. "There was a baby… and now there's not."

"What happened to it?" Tia asks quietly, looking stricken and pale.

"I don't know," I admit, feeling nauseous. "There're really only a few options."

"So either…"

"Yeah, I have a kid out there somewhere being raised by people I don't know or…" And that I could really not say. That I could not even think.

"Holy shit."

I snort. Tia cussed.

"I don't know if I should give you this now," she murmurs.

"Give me what?" I ask, lifting my head to study her. She looks jittery, unsure, and decidedly un-Tia like.

"When I got here, I found something sitting on your door mat," she explains.

"What?" I ask again. "Tia, just give it to me."

Sighing heavily, she drops a notebook onto my chest. I glance up at Tia and she shrugs, looking equally as bemused as me. As I pick up it up, understanding dawns. I instantly recognize the Moleskin journal. Bella filled about a thousand of them in the time we were together. She writes everything down. Things she observes, things she feels. I begged, many a time, to read just one entry. The insight such a journal would provide to the inner workings of Bella… is very appealing.

Turning the familiar journal over in my hands, my fingers brush over the post-it note that simply says "READ ME" in block letters that are as familiar as the journal itself.

"It's Bella's," I murmur.

A bundle of post cards, bound by a rubber band, falls out into my lap.

"Thought so," Tia replies.

I flip through the twenty or so post cards, furrowing my brow in confusion. The first is a picture of prairie with the bold word KANORADO. Smiling despite myself, I look at the back.

_Adonis (I have found that since my departure, I can't even think your name let alone spell it. Not that you will ever be seeing this because I'll never be sending it),_

_Can you believe a place exists called KANORADO? Well it does, and its terrible._

_I'm sorry. Please don't hate me._

_ ~~Your Isabella._

"What is it?" Tia asks. Still chuckling, I hand her the postcard a move on to the next. "I don't get it."

"It's funny," I reply impatiently. "A combination of Kansas and Colorado? Located on the border? It's funny."

The next is a black and white from Topeka that depicts three flying monkeys and declaring, "Don't mess with Kansas."

_ Adonis,_

_Dorothy was a dumbass. Kansas sucks. I bet you could make it better._

_ ~~ Your Isabella_

I continue to sort through the cards, smiling at most of them. Most messages are humorous, but obviously miserable. And I don't understand. Bella wanted to leave. She should have been happy and free after finally ditching me. Instead, each message is funny but undeniably sad.

Stops on Bella's road trip include St. Louis, Pittsburg, Baltimore, DC, Charleston, Savannah, Atlanta, Jacksonville, Orlando, Miami, Mobile, New Orleans, Baton Rouge, Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, and Corpus Christi, along with a dozen other tiny towns, most of which I'd never even heard of.

Shit, she really got around. How the hell did she afford that?

On the backs of cards that Bella couldn't conjure a joke or a memory, she simply writes "I miss you." In totally, I got twelve "I miss yous."

"She was thinking about me," I murmur in awe.

"Edward, I still don't get it. Are you okay?" Tia asks, touching my forearm.

"She bought me postcards from everywhere she went. Look, they're all dated. She has mapped out her whole journey. Now I know exactly where she was. It drove me crazy, not knowing." Explaining the obvious to Tia is gratings on my nerves.

"Okay. So this is a good thing?"

"The last one is dated a year ago. She was in Texas. That's the last one. Where the hell has she been for the last year? What the hell?" I continue, ignoring my friend.

"Ah," she says. I open the first page a find a piece of loose leaf, address to me.

_Edward,_

_This is a last resort. I know you hate me right now, and this is the only way I can think of to make you listen. To make you understand. I made a lot of mistakes, but I didn't do what you think I did. If that makes sense._

_You always claimed to want to read one of these suckers. So here it is._

_Personally, I recommend you only read the first couple entries. They explain what happened that December (mostly). There is a lot of shit in this journal that I am not proud of. It's going to hurt you. If you aren't ready for that, don't keep reading._

_But you deserve to know everything. This is pretty much everything._

_It's up to you. _

_I am so sorry. Please call me. We really need to talk._

_~~ Your Isabella_

"I'm gonna read this now," I say, gesturing to the moleskin and still not looking at Tia. Bella's note makes me ill, but too curious. Of course I am going to read the whole thing. I try to mentally prepare myself for the coming pain, but it can't be much worse than what I've been living with for the last week.

"Okay… I'll go… Just… I'm going to make some tea," Tia says softly, making her way toward the kitchen.

"Okay," I reply, carefully opening to the front page.

January 2, 2009

_I am a poor wayfaring stranger__  
__A-traveling thru this world below__  
__But there's no sickness, toil, or danger__  
__In that bright land to which I go__  
_

_I'm going there to see my Father__  
__I'm going there no more to roam__  
__I'm just a-going over Jordan__  
__I'm just a-going over home_

_I am a poor wayfaring stranger__  
__A-traveling thru this world below__  
__But there's no sickness, toil, or danger__  
__In that bright land to which I go__  
_

_I'm going there to see my mother__  
__She said she'd meet me when I come__  
__I'm just a-going over Jordan__  
__I'm just a-going over home__  
_

January 22, 2009

Location: Fucking Laurent's fucking smelly ass station wagon.

Mood: Nothing

Music: Melodramatic things, like Death Cab

I haven't written in at least three weeks. I haven't written a single thing since before. That's how I'm conceptualizing things now. Before and after.

I'm firmly in the after, and everything hurts.

The last time I took a hiatus from journaling, I was 16 and I came home to find my house empty and my mother gone. It was my first taste of this magic trick we Swans do. It's a disappearing act.

Renee did it.

My baby did it.

I'm actively doing it.

It's like the universe just said "and now I make these Swan's vanish!" Well done universe. I don't even really know where I am, and neither does anyone that matters.

Miscarriage is such a ugly, clinical word that really does nothing to describe what this feels like.

Writing was once necessary to my survival. I did it daily, and skipping this daily appointment with myself would mean that I would get trapped in my head. Bad things lurk in my head, so I try to spend as little time as possible in there. Typically. But these are dire times, and recording them brings a new and sharp kind of pain to my chest.

All stories start at the beginning, I suppose. And the story of Bella's disappearance begins on New Years Eve. (Actually, it starts a bit before that at the doctors office when I am informed there is no heartbeat. The little thing inside of me, growing for ten weeks no longer had a heart beat. But I can't write about that now.)

He who must not be named- no that's not right, it's more like he-who-I-literally-can't name – was so fucking happy. I've been drowning all semester, but he didn't want to see it, and I didn't want him to see it so no one did any seeing.

Anyway, right after midnight I had to leave. The festive atmosphere and happy him was making it impossible for me to breathe. I don't understand the happy people. Before Charlie died and my baby vanished, I was starting to see. But bad things happen to bad people, so logically I must be terrible.

I needed air and whilst I was getting said air, I ran into James, my dear old coke buddy.

He analyzed the look in my face so accurately, I couldn't help but agree to leave with him. To be honest, I didn't even fucking think about it at all.

"Do you want to get away from it all, Isabella?" he asked.

"Give me an hour to gather my shit," I replied.

So that's how I ended up fulfilling my destiny as a Swan woman and disappearing. I thought about leaving him a note, but that was just a little too Renee-like. And I was already acting obscenely like my motherfucking mother, and an "I'm sorry" note was just too much.

He deserves more. And that's why I left. Because I can't give him what he deserves.

I can't keep writing. This is my first entry in a month and I've already emotionally vomited all over this brand new Moleskin.

I wonder if he knows that I've left my heart with him.

January 25, 2009

_Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there ~ Otomo No Yakamochi_

Saw this written on my bathroom stall wall. I think that's why I've been doing so many drugs recently, to avoid such dreams.

February 5, 2009

Time: 9:48 PM

Location: The Dirty South

Mood: Apocalyptic

Music: Anything whiney.

For the first time since I learned how to spell my name, writing it down doesn't make me feel better. Nothing will make me feel better.

I made my choice. I left him. And even if it's for his own good, it doesn't make it hurt any less.

I've been living at a low level of inner turmoil pretty much since I learned to know better. Ever since I can remember, I've felt uncomfortable in my own skin. Like I would rather be anyone else. After Charlie died, I didn't think I could get any worse.

As usual, I was wrong. I'm also perpetually wrong.

I left town with James. Probably not the smartest decision, given his history with drugs and assault, but this choice more than anything indicates how beyond caring I am for my own wellbeing. I'm not scared of James. He's the kind of man I should be with anyway. James is everything _he's_ not.

James is boring. Stupid. Goalless. Blond.

_He_ is…

I don't even have the words.

And now for an analogy! James is to Bella as _he_ is to… I don't even know. Kate. But he tried to date Kate, and I ruined that before it even started with a little well-timed fallacio.

I bet he's suffering. Probably even more than me. I am mentally prepared for the worst, but he expects the best. He is probably suffering, and he doesn't even know the worst of it. That's the second reason I left. So he would never have to know the worst of it.

So to recap. I left because:

1. He deserves better. He wants happily ever after with the wife and the kids and the successful surgeon career. He was putting his life on hold to be with me, and it couldn't continue.

2. The worst of it was killing me. Eventually, he would have noticed that I'm basically dead inside. He would force me to tell him the worst of it and then he would be dead inside too. I couldn't live with myself if he went dead inside.

There's probably more reasons, like me being Renee's daughter and all that, but I'm too exhausted to write that now.

James and Laurent want to go out to some hick bar tonight. It's the perfect distraction, so I'll go with them. But I would rather be with _him_. I would always rather be with _him_.

February 12, 2009

Time: Don't fuckin' know.

Location: It's a mystery

Mood: Also, don't fuckin' know

Today something weird happened.

James tried to talk to me. Like really talk to me. About _him_. And my relationship with _him_. And what happened with _him_ and how I feel about _him_.

_Him_ is now officially a banned subject. Violating the ban results in the punishment of being pushed out of the moving vehicle.

Eventually it's got to get easier, right?

February 17, 2009

Time: 2:11 Pm

Location: On a Highway to Hell

Mood: Exhausted

Music: Jerry Garcia, Jeff Grisham

I hate road trips. When I was little, my whole life was like a road trip. Renee dragged me around the country, and although I saw a shit ton, mostly I was just bored. It's the same now, except I volunteered for this.

Because I'm an idiot.

These stupid, masochistic cocksuckers won't even let me drive. Laurent thinks I'm too emotionally unstable. James just enjoys pissing me the fuck off.

Idiots.

The South is just trees. Evergreens and deciduous. Also kudzu. A lot of kudzu and rednecks and Confederate flags. I can't sense any of _him_ in this part of the country. I keep thinking that each day away from _him_ will make it easier, but it turns out the opposite is true.

Some days, I don't utter a single word. I think the boys are disappointed in my lack of ability to entertain them. My expectations are pretty much met with them. They're completely unoriginal. James spends half his time trying to get in my pants and the other half trying to get me high.

He has yet to succeed at the former. I can't say the same about the later.

Before last month, I could count the number of times in recent memory I didn't share a bed with _him_ on one fucking hand. For at least year and a half, we spent every night together. And now I can't sleep. But part of the not sleeping thing could have to do with the fact that my bed is now the back of an ancient station wagon.

I think it's more about the empty though. My bed is empty. My heart is empty. My womb is empty. I'm empty. Empty. Empty. Empty. Empty.

Gah. I'm so emo, I'm annoying myself. This is why I don't talk to Laurent and James. I will probably kill my fellow road trippers with my emo.

The South is hot, and basically another country. The rednecks look at me like an exotic zoo animal. And their pot is shitty.

It's been more than entire month since I've seen him.

Empty.

February 20, 2009

"_I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived." ~ Marrgaret Mitchell_

I hate identifying with fucking Scarlett O'Hara because she is one nasty bitch, but her words ring true. Gone with the Wind seems an apt book to read on my journey through the south.

The problem, Ms. O'Hara, is that I was never particularly good, even at my best.

March 1, 2009

Time: 6:09 PM

Location: The Sunshine State

Mood: Embarrassed

Music: Beach Boys, perhaps?

So we all are well aware of how much I hate showing weakness, right? Right.

Well, today I showed a whole lot of it to James and it wasn't unbearably terrible.

Everything started when James threw me in a pool, and I almost drown like a fucking rat.

I'm not a strong swimmer. There is not a whole lot of water in home sweet Colorado, nor did Renee ever bother to put me in proper swimming lessons as a kid. I can usually manage a doggie paddle, but I pretty much fucking terrified of bodies of water deeper than waist level.

So when James shocks the piss out of my dumping me in the deep end, I panic and flap my limbs futilely. I gulp in lungs full of H2O and am pretty convinced that I'm going to die.

My last thought was that if I knew I was going to die so young I would have spent all my time with _him _rather than wasting my time with learning shit and shit.

Although it felt like eons at the time, I was really only under for a matter of seconds until James realized his mistake and jumped in after me. His muscled arms came around me, and I latched mine around his neck in, squeezing for dear life. Sputtering and coughing, glorious, life-sustaining air filled my lungs. James walked towards slightly shallower water, standing to his fall height with me in my arms.

"Ease up, Bella," wheezed, pulling gently on my arms. I realized that I was basically strangling him and slightly loosened my death grip. I did not open my eyes. My heart was still racing, and even though they were the wrong arms, James was still providing protection.

Except for the face he fucking threw me in the first place. Cocksucker.

"You can open your eyes now, fish girl," he said with a laugh.

"You are such a motherfucker, James," I muttered into his neck, blinking up at him. I was still shaking a bit from the lingering fear of near drowning, and my punch to his shoulder was pretty damn lame. "You almost fucking killed me."

"Relax." I could feel his chuckle deep in his chest. And it was shocking pleasant to be held close again. "I wasn't gonna let you die."

I simply growled in response.

"Isn't the water nice now that you're in it?" he asked, swinging me back and forth across the surface of the water.

"I guess." I tried to be petulant but couldn't help smile a little. The water was fucking pleasant.

Then he spun us it a super quick circle, causing me to shriek and giggle and cling more desperately to him for fear of drowning. That was probably his plan all along.

"So Bella Swan can't swim, huh?" he mused, sinking down in the water to his shoulder but still keeping my head above water. He chose this moment, when I was totally helpless and dependent on him for survival, to basically grope me in the water.

I should have minded more. But it was kinda nice, letting someone else keep my head above water.

"Seriously, I'm fucking surprised," he continued. "I thought you could do anything. Indestructible."

"I can swim!" I defended, still not letting go of him. "Sorta. Just not well."

"You're scared of the water!" he declared, getting joy out of my weakness. The asshole.

"Am not! I'm going to be a great fucking swimmer. Starting now."

"You're going to have to let go of me first." His arms loosened their grip, compelling me to move closer. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Who the fuck are you? Is James Hunt _really_ offering to do something nice for someone else? I'm shocked," I replied.

"Don't be a bitch. I could drop you, you know. Your life is in my hands." I knew he was manipulating me into pressing myself against him, but I did it anyway.

"Do you really know what your doing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in skepticism

"Sure. Everyone knows the first step to learning to swim is floating."

So I floated. James was obviously lovin' it because for once I was letting him touch me at his leisure. I was actually impressed with his ability to hold back. He only groped my ass twice.

Still, eventually I became comfortable enough in the water to float on my own for a couple minutes.

At one point, as I stared up and James as I floated in the water, I became pretty positive that he was on the verge of kissing me. His lips were closing in on mine and he had that lusty look I've seen on the faces of a thousand boys. But even more shocking than all that, for a moment I thought about letting him. Kiss me, that is.

"I best not get herpes from this dank ass cheap motel pool water," I mused to deliberately ruin the moment.

"Yeah that would fucking suck because there are much more pleasurable ways to get herpes," he replied. "Wanna give it a go?"

Chuckling and shaking my head, my feet found the stairs and I exited the pool. "And now you've ruined it!" I called over my shoulder, wrapping myself in a scratchy towel.

"Aw, baby, your body's too hot to cover up with a towel."

I flip him off as I make my way back to our room.

"Way to ruin our moment, Swan!"

"We don't have moments, Hunt!"

Maybe at the next hotel, we'll tackle treading water.

March 22, 2009

Time: 8:11 AM

Location: The Home of Walt Disney

Mood: Pensive

Music: I don't fucking know… A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes?

It's taken us more than two months to reach our final destination, but we did it. A girlfriend of Laurent's owns a gorgeous house on three acres of land sitting on a fucking lake five minutes from Disneyworld. She is letting us stay her in exchange for some manual labor. The boys are building her a guesthouse while I'm working in her garden.

Every night, I walk down to the dock and can see the fireworks from the theme parks. Their colors are reflected on the glassy surface of the water.

It's a perfect spot, but all I can think about is _him_ and the worst of it. He has always had a weird obsession with fire, and I know he would love this.

The house is big, but has only one guest bedroom that James and I are supposed to be sharing. Last night, I let him kiss me with his tongue and feel me up a little bit, but then I made him go sleep on the couch.

"You're gonna succumb to my charms eventually, Swan," he said, smiling ruefully before slipping out the bedroom door.

Unfortunately, he's probably right. The more time passes since I've seen _him_, the more like the old Bella I become. I will probably end up fucking James at some point because I can't think of any reason not too. We're already done everything else anyway, even if it was a really long time ago.

This dock, even in the daylight, is almost perfect. I like the water. When I'm near the water I can almost forgive Florida for being mountainless.

Most mornings, I wake up before the sun, discombobulated from lack of _him_ and mountains. Without both of them, I have no compass.

I just jumped in the water. Notice the water droplets? They dripped down onto my paper from my hair and off my nose. That's kinda cool, huh? Even cooler is I'm not scared now. All the treading and the floating paid off. Being able to jump into a big, temperate body of water. Nothing like Boulder Creek.

And just like that, all the little joy I managed to squeeze out of this bright, sun shinny morning, is gone.

Here's a happy memory to go along with my happy mood.

January 1st, we drove through eastern Colorado. I hate eastern Colorado. There are no mountains. It might as well be Kansas. I spent hours staring out the back window of the station wagon, eye fixated on the mountains. My hands started shaking, and I felt myself freaking out the moment they disappeared.

"Bye, bye Colorado," Laurent said sometime later when we passed the "Entering Kansas" sign at the state line.

"Stop," I said, completely panicking.

"What?" James asked, turning around to get a good look at my probably green face. Riding in the back seat has always made me carsick, but I think this bout of nausea ran deeper than that.

"STOP!" I yelled again. "I'm going to puke. Please, let me out!"

Laurent complied, muttering about me being a crazy bitch under his breath. I basically tumbled out of the car before it reached a complete stop. I got about ten feet off the side of the road, tottering on unsteady legs, until they gave out completely. I fell forward onto my knees as my whole body shook and heaved. Somewhere someone was crying, and it took me a minute to realize it was me. I touched my face in surprise, utterly perplexed to find my eyes leaking.

I don't cry.

Not when Renee left.

Not when Charlie died.

Not when the worst of it happened.

But there I was, sobbing hysterically and my body shaking. I glanced fifty yards down the two-lane highway, spotting the "Entering Kansas" sign.

I'm not in Colorado now. Home is really far away, and I'm empty.

I was fucking Kansas with a coke dealer and his equally creepy friend. So I puked. I emptied the entire contents of my stomach while James laughed and Laurent cursed James out for bringing a "crazy, puking chick".

But eventually, I got a grip. James handed me a water bottle and a stick of gum as I followed the boys back to the car.

"Your girl's a weird one," Laurent said when we got back underway. Apparently my silence had prompted him to talk about me like I wasn't there.

"Not my girl," James said, leering at me in the rearview. I closed my eyes and pretend I was anywhere else. "Yet."

Laurent let out a laugh. "You sure can pick 'um," he continued. "Why doesn't she talk?"

"She talks," James insisted. "Don't you, Swan?"

I flipped them off and took a nap.

And now I'm in Orlando, Florida. I don't know how long I'll be here.

April 4, 2009

_I'd rather be a hammer than a nail_

_~ Simon and Garfunkel_

April 19, 2009

Story idea: something involving Mormons and robots. A satire clearly demonstrating that love is all really just bullshit. Nothing is worth this kind of pain.

May 22, 2009

Time: 3:37 AM

Location: Under a streetlite bye the see

Mood: Dissgusted

Music: Fuck this music thing. No music has spoken to me since I left _him_.

I fuked James.

I fucked James on som towels on the beach 20 minutes ago. He feel asleep immediately and I can't sop crying.

I dunk. Too much as is the usual thees one is sirprized by my behavior. But it makes me fell empty. Er.

I wunder wat he's doin right this very minute. I hope he's okay. I'll I know, is that he is better whereever hes without me than he would be hear wit me.

June 23, 2009

_Drunkenness is temporary suicide. _

_~Bertrand Russell, The Conquest of Happiness_

July 4, 2009

Time: 10:09 PM

Location: The back of a hippie van

Mood: Resigned

I never told _him_, but I have a lot of money now. Well, to _him_ it probably wouldn't be a lot of money, but to me it is. When Charlie died he left me his house and his life savings. Which amounts to about twenty-five thousand dollars. The first thing I did after the funeral was attempt to partially pay Phil back for college. He wouldn't take a penny, of course, and we got into a huge fight over it.

I guess I'm even more thankful now for Phil's extreme and unfounded generosity. He's probably regretted his kindness now that it turns out that I'm just a younger, less attractive version of my mother.

I didn't touch any of Charlie's hard earned money until I left Boulder. He would probably hate what his life savings is funding. But at least now everyone understands just how unlovable and useless I am.

Anyway, that's how I'm doing it. I'm living off Charlie's inheritance. I don't really eat that much or live anywhere specific, so my expenses really only include booze, gas, pot, and cigarettes. Every time I spend money on something Charlie wouldn't like, I can feel a little chip of my soul disintegrating. Eventually, there won't be anything left.

I just don't know how to stop.

James and I are back on the highway. We bopped around Florida for a couple months, hitchhiking. We saw the beach and the glades and the Gulf. Occasionally, we fuck but mostly he is my friend. Sort of. He annoys the shit out of me and is a complete moron, but he makes me laugh. He's easy. Interacting with James requires absolutely no thought.

James and I somehow managed to get temp jobs working with these grizzled, old, backwoods, gator dudes thirty miles outside Miami. They smoke like chimneys and have thick southern accents and they give airboat rides to tourists. For a couple weeks we worked the cash register, selling tickets, stocking stuffed gator heads, and cooking fired gator that tastes just like chicken. Ed, the owner, let us sleep in a loft above the gift shop.

That's where we met Maggie and Liam. How they ended up traveling the US in a VW Bus is unclear to me, probably because their Irish accents are thicker than Ed's southern drawl, but I'm glad they did. The four of us got to talking and the next thing I know, we're heading towards Texas.

Maggie is hilarious and has excellent taste in music and pot. Liam doesn't really speak, much like myself, but he lets me drive his van after I told him about my beast of a truck back home.

We're headed toward Austin, which makes me happy because I've heard the city is Boulder-cool.

"So what's the deal with you an' James?" Maggie asked me last night as we lounged in the bed at the back of the van.

"No deal," I told her, accepting the bong she handed me. I don't know how they manage to always have such good weed on hand. This bus must be magic.

"Oh, come off it," she said, playfully shoving me in the shoulder. "There's got to be a story 'bout how you an' that boy ended up sellin' tickets in the everglades."

"Well there's got to be a story with you too!" I replied, shoving her back. "You and Liam in this van in Florida do not make sense."

"You first," she insists. "An' no lying. I always know when people lie."

"James is a distraction," I said, blowing out a large smoke ring. Maggie reached up and flicked it, causing the vapor to curl. I love the look of smoke. "My whole life is a distraction. And not even a very good one. We drunkenly fucked once months ago, and it was terrible. He's just my slightly creepy, rather annoying travel companion."

"Ah, so the thing you need distracting from is the real story, then," she replied with a chuckle. Maggie is very perceptive apparently.

"Yeah," I admitted. "Bad things kept happening, and I was the common denominator. I ran away to keep more bad things from happening to ones that love me. "

"You look so sad all the time," Maggie murmured.

That's probably because I am sad all the time.

"Small price to pay," I dismissed with a wave of my hand. "This is for the best. I'm a poor, wayfaring stranger. Now you go."

"You're a terrible storyteller," Maggie declared. In this moment, she's right but I can't even write _his_ name in these pages, let alone tell her the whole story. There is no way to explain most of what I feel anyway.

It turns out that Maggie is a great storyteller. She weaved a romantic tale of love against the odds. Liam is older, her former professor at the university. Her filthy rich parents do not approve, so they ran away after she graduated. Liam has always been fascinated by the US apparently so here they are. They want to see it all before finding somewhere to settle down.

I almost cry when I see the look on Maggie's face when she looks at Liam.

I like Maggie, but she's right. I am not happy, nor do I have any plans to actually change that.

August 11, 2009

_Of all the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company.  
And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was done to none but me.  
And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall.  
So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all._

_Of all the comrades that ere I had, they're sorry for my going away,__  
And of all the sweethearts that ere I had , they wish me one more day to stay,  
But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not,__  
I will gently rise and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"_

_Oh, if I had money enough to spend and leisure time to sit awhile__  
There is a fair maid in this town that sorely has my heart beguiled__  
Her rosey cheeks and ruby lips, she alone has my heart in thrall.  
So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all._

_~Awesome Irish folk song taught to me by Maggie_

September 13, 2009

Time: 3:48 AM

Location: Still in the back of the hippie van

Mood: Lonely

Music: The Beatles (Obviously)

_You say it's your birthday __  
__Well it's my birthday too yeah __  
__They say it's your birthday __  
__We're gonna have a good time __  
__I'm glad it's your birthday __  
__Happy birthday to you _

_Yes we're going to a party party __  
__Yes we're going to a party party __  
__Yes we're going to a party party _

_I would like you to dance (birthday) __  
__Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (birthday) __  
__I would like you to dance (birthday) __  
__Dance __  
_

I'm twenty-three today. Twenty-three. I feel older and younger at the same time, if that's even possible.

In celebration, I fucked some random dude in a grimy club bathroom.

Yeah, that made me feel real nice.

It seems like everything I do only serves to fragment my soul further. I'm perpetually reaching new lows of self-hate.

Happy birthday to me.

October 3, 2009

Time: 9:55 AM

Location: DALLAS, TX (who the fuck ever thought I would end up spending anytime in fucking DALLAS, TX. It's like the fucking anti-Boulder, and I'm ready for the next lo-cal)

Mood: Shocked.

The world is a ridiculously small place.

That fucking statement always seemed so moronic, but now I get it. The world is a fucking small ass place, and I'm a believer.

Either that or the universe hates me. And I have long suspected the later.

It all started when I somehow let James talk me into going to some cowboy bar with him last night. I was not particularly in the mood. Usually at these hick type bars half the male population sees me as this exotic little alien they simply must fuck while the other half thinks I'm some sort of scary hippy lesbian there to corrupt their conservative ideals and steal their women.

But I go. Because Jamie won't stop badgering me about it. Because I hate being a third wheel with Maggie and Liam when James goes out. Because when I'm alone I think about _him_ too much, and I can't handle that much pain.

So I go to the goddamn bar.

Even though Dallas is a big city and James is the master at scoring drugs, we don't manage to get anything but some unbearably shit dank. Needless to say, I'm not fucking pleased with the way the evening's going. Plus after two beers, James leaves me all alone at the bar in favor for some big-boobed blonde stuffed into a pair of daisy dukes.

She is much better company than me being as she both smiles and laughs at his jokes. And will probably put out tonight. I rarely put out.

Laughter is so foreign an action, I think it would make my lungs pop if I attempted it. Don't even get me started on the smiling. Just imagining it is causing my face muscles to hurt.

I accept a couple drinks from strangers, but then completely ignore them so they quickly lose interest.

None of these men are the right man. There is only one right man, and I burned that bridge months ago. I wonder if he still thinks about me. I wonder if he misses me. I wonder if he is still deluded enough to think that he loves me. I wonder if my plan worked. I wonder if he sees now that he is better off without me. I want to want him to move on and forget about me.

But I don't. Deep down, in all my secret places - places only he has managed to see - I don't want him to forget me.

Because I haven't, nor will I ever, be over him.

All this runs through my head, causing me to brood at the cowboy bar. When no distraction serves to help me forget in the moment that I'm miserable, I play a game with myself. I pretend he's sitting next to me, and imagine what he would say.

Probably that I'm too beautiful for my own good as he glares at the leering cowboys around me. He would run his hands over my thighs while I attempt to appear unaffected, more interested in my drink than him but we both know I'm full of it. After questioning the sanitation of the nuts sitting in the bar, he would progress to try to convince me to ride the bull.

I glance at the mechanical beast in the center of the bar, and can easily see myself flying off the thing. Smiling to myself, I can almost hear his panic at my fall followed by his laughter when he realizes I'm okay.

"Holy shit." A deep, drawling voice interrupts my admittedly tame fantasies. The owner of said voice slides into the bar stood next to me. It takes me a full twenty seconds to comprehend who I'm seeing. "Bella Swan?"

"Holy shit," I somehow manage to respond despite my shock. "Peter Whatshisface?"

I still can't recall his last name.

He chuckles, waves over the bartender, and slides into the stool next to me as I continue to gape at him.

"Of all the bars in all of Texas…" I mumble into my cocktail, downing my whisky concoction and shaking my head.

"I know, right?" he agrees jovially, flagging down the bartender and ordering another round. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Just passin' through," I reply, still gaping at this familiar face. It has been so long. Recently, I have felt so disconnected from my life in Boulder. And Peter, somehow, brings me closer to the ones I left.

"Where's your geek?" he asks, looking around and making my heartache. Oh, how I long to be with my geek.

I don't say anything.

"Seriously?" he continues, poking me in the side with his elbow and cranking his neck to look around the bar. "Where is he? I mean, he's a buzz kill, but I've kinda been a bit rude to him in years past."

"A bit rude?" I sputter, suddenly infuriated with the man I barely know, breathing up my oxygen. "Try a total and complete raving dick for absolutely no reason."

"Whoa, how do you really feel, Isabella?" he asks with a chuckle, making me even madder. I hate it when people don't take me seriously.

"Bite me, motherfucker," I snap, finishing my drink.

"Believe me, baby," he drawls, leading too close and giving me what he must assume is a sexy smirk. It's not. "I would love too." And then, as if he couldn't get any creepier, he fucking leans back in the seat, stares at my ass, nodding his head, and grinning in appreciation.

I kick at his bar stop, causing him to slush beer all over himself.

"What the fuck!" he demands, glaring at me.

"Don't gawk, Petie. It's unattractive," I reply pleasantly.

"That's cold," he says, chuckling and smirking again as he dabs at his chest with a stack of napkins. "But you've always been one tough bitch. I like that about you."

"Gee," I reply, fluttering my eyelashes and flipping my hair. "You flatter me. I feel like the pertitest gal in the bar. What a complement."

"Believe it or not," he says after ordering me another drink, "I meant that as a complement. I admire strength."

Well, I certainly have this one fooled. What does one even say to that?

"But seriously, where is that man of yours?" he continues, obliviously to my discomfort. "I feel as though I should take this opportunity to make amends for how I treated him in the past."

"Oh really?" I ask, completely thrown by this statement.

"Yeah."

"Why did you do that anyway? I never got why you were such an ass to him. Alice and Em too. What, do you just hate Cullens?" I demand.

"Well, I was real fucked up for a long time," he admits, shaking his head. I can relate to this and suddenly he has my attention. "And Jazz was it, you know? My only friend. The only person ever willing to put up with me. Who the fuck knows why, but Jazz is Jazz. And then he went away for college, abandoning me."

"Ah yes," I say, nodding into my whiskey. "Abandonment."

"Right. Anyway, Jazz was thriving without me, talking about his fucking roommate new best friend. So obviously I hated him. From the get go he was just so painfully head over heels for Alice, it was like she was stealing him from me. And then I met Alice, who is nothing like anyone I would have picked out for my brother. I mean, she can't even cook!"

At this I actually chuckle. Because she fucking can't.

It feels so strange to be talking about Alice Cullen. Though I have thought about her often, her name feels weird on my tongue.

"It's like he had this whole other family and I only had him, so I hated them. I was a dick and my relationship with Jazz suffered for it. But I got my shit together," Peter concludes.

I'm in complete awe of his ability to just spill his guts to someone who is basically a stranger. I am very, very bad at spilling my guts. He is just fucking sitting there, admitting his mistakes and calming to be better.

It's terrible to be identifying with Peter Whathisface. Who I obviously hate.

"So you're what, like nice and shit now?" I ask, still skeptical.

"Not really. Sorta. I dunno." Stupid drunken idiot.

I spend the next hour grilling him on this getting better business. What does it mean? How did he do it? What exactly is involved in "getting better" and what does the end result look like? What do I first?

Peter is obviously annoyed by my barrage of questions, none of which he can answer satisfactorily.

"Bella! Shit, girl. Calm the fuck down. I don't know what to fucking tell you," he says, laughing at my pathetic desperation.

"But this getting better thing. I must know. How do you do it?" I ask with one last plea.

"You get happy, Bella," he says finally. "That's it. You just figure out how to be happy."

It's bizarre that Peter's words resonate with me so intensely.

"Wanna fuck in the bathroom?" he asks after a moment of blissful silence during which I am in a deep state of contemplation.

"And now you've ruined it," I reply, finishing my drink and stuffing a few bills in the tip jar. Rising and slipping my arms into my leather jacket, I kiss Peter's cheek. "Thanks for the words of wisdom."

"Good luck with the happy, bitchy Bella," he calls as I walk away.

October 14, 2011

_I'll fly away, oh Glory__  
__I'll fly away in the morning__  
__When I die Hallelujah, by and by__  
__I'll fly away._

_When the shadows of this life have gone__  
__I'll fly away__  
__Like a bird from these prison walls I'll fly__  
__I'll fly away._

_I'll fly away, oh Glory__  
__I'll fly away in the morning__  
__When I die Hallelujah, by and by__  
__I'll fly away._

_Oh, how glad and happy when we meet__  
__I'll fly away__  
__No more cold iron shackles on my feet__  
__I'll fly away._

_I'll fly away, oh Glory__  
__I'll fly away in the morning__  
__When I die Hallelujah, by and by__  
__I'll fly away._

_When I die Hallelujah, by and by__  
__I'll fly away..._

~Alison Krauss & Union Station Lyrics Tape player broke in the van today. Turned out to be a rather good thing because Maggie and I sang bluegrass songs at the top of our lungs with the windows down. It was one of the rare moments on this little journey I haven't felt completely miserable.

October 23, 2009

Time: 6:37 AM

Location: A beach on the Gulf in Texas

Mood: Fine

I like Maggie. She's quirky. Soulful. Funny. Maggie looks at the world differently than anyone I've ever met and, like _him_, she sees right the fuck through my protective shield of toughness. Where _he_ was gentle about getting me to open up, Maggie is blunt.

She's been fucking bullying me about telling her the whole story since we met in March and yesterday she kept buying me margaritas until I gave in. Cocksucker.

She told me to start at the beginning, so I did. I told her about my unorthodox childhood and the subsequent trust issues. I told her about Renee leaving and the subsequent abandonment issues. I told her about meeting _him_ and fighting my connection to _him_ and giving into _him_.

I devoted a good hour to talking about _him_ before I got to the worst of it.

Maggie actually cried at that part, and then wouldn't stop hugging me for like seventeen fucking years.

"'Ave you ever considered gettin' all this analyzed by a professional?" she asked when she finally got a hold of herself. "Might make you feel better."

As ridiculous as it sounds, the thought of going to a shrink never crossed my mind. I always thought this destitute feeling was me. I thought the desire to be anyone else was permanent.

But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I could be fixed.

If I could be fixed, if I could get better, well. The possibilities for the direction of my life are endless.

And mostly they lead back to Boulder.

November 22, 2009

Time: 2:28 AM

Location: Does it even matter at this point?

Drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs, drugs.

That what life is like on the road with James, Maggie, and Liam.

I'm destroying myself. Just like I destroyed _him_. Just like I destroyed our baby. Just like I am actively destroying James. Maybe. Good God, I thought he was safe from my poison. James of all people.

Tonight, he declared his love for me.

We've been staying in this tiny town on the gulf coast. James has a friend here, and he's letting us stay in his basement. I sleep with James on a pull out couch, while Maggie and Liam stay in the van, parked at the side of the house.

And by sleep with, I mean sleep near. He doesn't hold me, and I can't stand the thought of touching him as I doze. We don't really even have sex very often, unless I am feeling particularly low.

Seriously, we're done it like ten times. Tops.

Mostly, he is just almost my friend. I wouldn't even really call him a friend. He's just… James.

We all go out. Maggie and Liam, James, his friend whose name I can't remember even though I am living in his basement. We go to a bar (as usual) and I don't really talk to anyone (as usual) or feel included at all (also, as usual).

Someone near me mentions brain synopsizes or some shit, and that's it. I'm miserable, and _he_ is literally all I can think about. So I already have _him_ on the brain from the get go, and it causes me to drink heavily (as usual. Again) and take some mystery pills.

Tonight was karaoke night at the local bar, and I was flying high. Maggie somehow convinced me to sing some terrible country song by fucking Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. It's truly painful, and Maggie forced me into the guy part, but I was too high to really mind.

But then I realize that the song is about leaving, a break up. And the misery that follows. Everything comes rushing back, and I was _really_ feelin' the song.

I can sing. Pretty well. And it occurred to me that _he_ never heard me sing. So I pretended like I was singing to _him_ and stared crying like a baby. But I must have done something right, because the crowd loved us and Maggie was hanging all over me, claiming that was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard.

Which is impossible. Because the song was utterly shit.

But the cheesy ass song made everything come back, and all the excessive partying I've been doing as of late was for nothing because it didn't work. I can't forget. I feel so distant from everything I care about. Including myself.

Anyway, back to James.

God, _he_ would hate my relationship with James. Though, despite James's general creepier status, he's been good to me. He gives me drugs. He keeps even creepier creepers away from me when I'm too high to know better or care. He makes me laugh. He is a total and complete asshole, and constantly tormenting me with really not fucking funny practical jokes, but overall he is a decent travel companion.

But I don't feel anything for him.

And tonight, my fucking country singing somehow lead to the realization that good old James is in love with me.

Damn it.

"I mother fucking love you, Bella Swan," he said after shoving me against the brick wall of the bar and attempting to kiss me breathless.

At least I had the good sense to slap him across the face the moment the words left his stupid mouth. Moments later I deteriorated into hysterical laughter.

"What?" he demanded.

"Everyone can say it so easily but me," I said through my laughter, not really talking to James at all.

"So you want to tell me you love me too but you can't?" he asked hopefully, eliciting another chuckle from me.

"Hell no," I said. "James, come on. We don't talk, unless drugs are involved. We don't fuck unless drugs are involved either, and even then its not all that often. You don't know me and you certainly don't love me."

"Oh yeah?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yeah. Plus I feel that way about someone else." My eyes went wide when I realized I inadvertently almost said the words I haven't even allowed myself to think in the last four years.

I was so shocked by myself, I progressed to vomit all over James's shoes.

It was a moment of utter and total revelation, but I can't think about that. I can't think about _him_.

I think I need a change. I'm tired of being a nomad. The wayfaring stranger lifestyle is not making me happy and it's no longer an adequate distraction.

December 4, 2009

_A leopard cannot change its spots._

_So shall you make your bed, so shall you must lie in it._

_Better to loved and lost than to never have loved at all._

_~Stupid ass proverbs that only serve to make me feel worse_

January 1, 2010

Time: 3:47 AM

Location: Airport. Another blessed airport

Mood: Hopeful

Tonight was a very strange night. I haven't seen _him_ in a whole goddamn, motherfucking, cocksucking year. A year in which I totally spiraled out of control, reaching new lows. Even for me.

Miserable. I can't remember the last time I've felt anything other than miserable. Desolate. Lonely. Broken.

I think about Peter's words and Maggie's, and wonder for the first time if it's possible. Maybe not to be happy and whole, but at least okay and content.

But it certainly wasn't going to happen in the life I've been living for the last year.

Tonight, shockingly, I was not in the mood to party. Sure, I indulged in a few drinks, but refused the hard stuff. I was just so blue. Introspective.

James tried to kiss me at midnight, and I completely lost my shit.

_He_ kissed me last year. It was our last kiss, and letting James kiss me at midnight seemed like a further travesty to _his_ memory. _He_ must remain my last New Years kiss. It had to stay that way.

So I freaked. Minorly. Okay, majorly.

Storming off in a tizzy, I shoved all my shit into my backpack and my duffle and my purse, while James screamed at me to explain myself.

"I have to leave," I told him. "I'm dying out here, living like this."

"In case you forgot," he said with a sneer, "you have nowhere else to go. You burned every fucking bridge. Hurt everyone who cared about you. You don't got nowhere to go, you selfish bitch. I'm the best you can do. "

That made me real mad. In fact, I may have punched him. In the jaw instead of the customary shoulder. After getting over his initial shock that I actually slugged him (FUCK YES ISABELLA MARIE!) he just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at me.

"You're not even good enough for _me_," he muttered. "You ungrateful cunt. I always knew you were a whore."

I thought about punching him again, but I figured a more productive use of my time would be packing up to get away from him as quickly as possible.

And then Maggie got involved.

That was even harder to handle than James.

First she got sad and pathetic. Then she got absolutely furious. And the finally stage was a combination of the two with a whopping pile of guilt. She said terrible things too, yelling at me that I belong there with her and, even more disturbingly, James. She said that we're meant to be together.

But I don't want that. Not at all.

I once told Maggie that I don't care about other people. I guess she didn't realize I was including her in this statement.

"But we're a family, Isa!" she howled as I waited impatiently on my cab. "Why can't you just settle? You're meant to be here with us! Why can't you see James is the man you're destined to be with? Stay."

"You're not my family," I whispered, eyes glued on the stars. I don't do family. Didn't I explain all of this to Maggie during our heart to heart?

Renee left. Twice.

Charlie died.

My baby disappeared.

So I don't do family. And if I did, I would never select these people.

All these bad things _happened_ to me, but I've been realizing recently that a substantial chunk of my misery is self-inflicted. Shity things led to my lack of family, but it is also something I chose.

I chose to leave Boulder. I decided to leave Jake and Phil and Alice and Rose and Jasper and Emmett and Angela and Billy. I decided to leave all those people that care about me. For a long time, they were my family ever if I didn't recognize it. And I chose to throw that away.

And mostly _him_.

I left… Edward.

Edward.

If I had any family in this world after all my blood relatives vanished, he would be it.

My Edward.

How can it be that a year has gone by and I'm still not over him?

But these are the issues I am now choosing to face. I'm going to get better. I have to get better. And when I do, hopefully I'll finally be able to let him go for real.

* * *

**Thoughts? I should have a Bella/Edward reunion chapter up later in the week. Thanks for reading!**


	23. The Turning Point

**Updating ahead of schedule! Huzzah!**

**Thanks for all the feedback from the last couple chapters and for putting up with my angstfest. Also, bless your hearts for reading. It's so great. Really.**

* * *

BPOV

January 1, 2011

Don't leave Edward's room. Bundle myself in only his clothes. Move between the bed and the roof. Smoke the rest of my cigarettes. Want more but can't summon the energy to leave his room. Cry more than seems physically possible. Miss Edward terribly and call him thirty seven times before falling into a restless sleep.

January 2, 2011

Listen for the departure of everyone else before sneaking into the kitchen. The thought of eating is repugnant, but my stomach hurts with my hunger. Grab a box of something from the cabinet at random, turn around to see Alice staring at me, and drop said box. Alice appears repulsed and disappointed, glaring at me. I want to ask her if she spoke to Edward, but run back upstairs instead. Spend the rest of the day crying and listening to depressing music.

Today's total is forty-four calls and ninety-eight text messages. I get zero response.

January 3, 2011

Decide I hate this room and walk around Boulder for hours. Take the route Edward and I used to take when we jog. Walk Pearl. Visit frozen over Boulder Creek. Go to the Hill and eventually to campus. Seriously consider breaking into the library before sitting outside Hallett Hall on the ledge where I found out my mom left again all those years ago. At some point the sun goes down, but I don't really notice. Students stare, but I don't really notice this either. Jake shows up, tries to talk, yells at me because I'm on the verge of frostbite. Apparently Alice called him, worried when I didn't come home. He drives me back, stopping at a gas station to buy me a pack of cigarettes, chips, and a coffee. My whole body is so cold I am forced to spend forty-five minutes sitting in the shower before I feel anything again. Decide the shower is the place to be because the tears get lost in the stream of water.

Sixty-nine phone calls. A hundred and nine texts. No response.

January 4, 2011

Spend the morning avoiding the roommates. Their judgmental glares make me cry even harder. Edward still isn't answering his phone, and I lose my mind a little bit more. Hop in my truck and book it to Denver. Sit with my back to his apartment door, pounding and constantly dialing his phone. It goes to message immediately and I fill up his voice mail, begging him to speak to me. In the middle of the night I give up and go home.

January 5, 2011

My first day at my new job. Somehow I fake my way through training, acting semi-normal. Good thing I've barista-ed before. Come home, avoid Alice, cry myself to sleep, and brainstorm ways to force him to listen to me.

Lose count of the number of phone calls I place. They all go straight to voice mail now. He must have turned it off.

January 6, 2011

Wake up with brilliant and terrifying idea. This will force him to listen to me. It's going to hurt both of us, him knowing all this shit. But at least now he will know. Everything. Drive to Denver in the morning, knock for only five minutes and call only eleven times. Drive back to Boulder in time to work.

Spend the afternoon smoking outside my window.

I almost fall off the roof in relief when I see Edward walk up Goss. It's been a whole motherfucking, cocksucking seven days since I've seen him. That's how long it's been since I have even glanced at Rosalie. I'm so indescribably mad at my former friend, I cannot even form an appropriate insult to accurately encompass the extent of my hate for her.

She had it all wrong, and now her big stupid mouth meant Edward had it all wrong too.

I didn't go out that night. Not that I've been a big fan of the New Year in the last couple years, but still. I didn't sleep all night, choosing to dial Edward's cell manically. He never answered, and I have no reason to assume he listened to my messages.

Living here at this house on Goss with people I've disappointed constantly and who now think the very worst of me is very difficult. I don't speak to them, and they don't speak to me. Several times, Alice looks like she about to let me have it, but the words dry up on her lips. I think if I wanted she would talk to me, but I have to tell Edward first.

He deserves to know everything after all this time.

He didn't want to listen to me, so I had to make him.

I'd never let anyone read one of my journals before. They are deeply personal and filled with a whole lot of crazy. What he read probably hurt him. It hurts me to think about, so I can't even imagine what he's feeling. But it's also abundantly clear in the journal that I didn't get rid of our baby. I didn't commit that final, traumatic betrayal.

My plan must have worked because Edward stalks up the driveway. Half way to the house he notices me on the roof. My legs are pulled to my chest, and my chin rests on my knees. For once I don't attempt to keep my emotions guarded on my face. He holds my gaze, looking just as distraught as I am. His eyes hold all the heartbreak and longing I feel.

My face is wet again, but I don't even bother brushing away the tears.

Edward stands in the driveway for a full minute, never looking away from my face before moving toward the porch. I put out the cigarette I forgot I was smoking and scramble back inside through the open window.

This is not an on-the-roof-in-the-freezing-cold conversation.

I freak out as I hear Edward's footsteps on the stairs. Kicking and tossing as many of the dirty clothes thrown about the room as I can in the closet, I attempt to make the pit the room has become without Edward livable. Frantically rushing around, I straighten the comforter on the bed and tidy. I settle myself cross-legged in the center of the mattress, feigning calm, and make the mistake of glancing at the mirror.

Oh, fuck. It's not pretty.

I haven't showered in at least four days, nor have I really slept. When at home, I've been wearing only Edward's clothes in a futile attempt to make myself feel better. Today it's a blue plaid shirt that's so long it could be a dress and a baggy pair of his sweatpants that I had to roll the waist band over four times to keep them on my hips.

I wish in vain for a few more moments to get my shit together, but then Edward pushes open the bedroom door. It takes three of his long strides to reach the bed, and he tosses down my Moleskin on the comforter right in front of me.

EPOV

January 6, 2011

Holy crap.

Wow, just wow.

I mean… wow.

I finished reading the whole journal fifteen minutes ago, and have not moved from my position on the couch. The Moleskin sits on the coffee table, and I can't manage to do anything but blink at it, supporting my head in my hands with my elbows on my knees.

Everything I thought about everything is different then I thought.

Does that even make sense? That most definitely does not even make sense.

That was a whole lot of information. I laughed. I cried. In fact, I might still be crying. I touch my fingers to check, and its damp but I can't tell if they are fresh or old.

She was in so much pain.

In the last two year, I managed to do a pretty good job thoroughly vilifying Bella. I thought she left because she didn't want me. I thought she was too cowardly to dump me in person. Her departure seemed so harsh and impersonal I assumed that she never really cared about me at all.

But I was so fucking wrong. The proof of her feelings sits in front of me, written in a journal I'm pretty sure I purchased for her. I didn't think it was possible, but Bella might have been even more miserable than me. Or at least as miserable. Bella carried around the extra burden of self-loathing. At least I had a support system. Bella gallivanted around the country with people that only made her feel worse.

Her words thoroughly broke my heart, but there is the potential that they could heal it too.

She cared. A lot. She also thought about me. A lot. And as cruel as it sounds, it does make me feel better that I wasn't alone in my suffering. I don't like the thought of her hurting, but at least now I know all these feelings weren't one sided.

And most importantly, she did not take the fate of our child into her own hands. My relief at this realization is overcome by the loss I feel for the child we almost had and the sorrow she experienced dealing with it alone. While my heart aches for both of us, I feel so guilty for how I acted in the last few weeks. I was terrible to her, wouldn't listen to her. I want to comfort her and make amends.

But then I think about James. And the people she spent a year with, and I get fucking enraged all over again. I still don't understand how she could do that. How she could choose him over me.

My brain hurts.

"Fuck!" I growl out, hurling my head against the back of the couch in my frustration. I throw a little tantrum because I'm pissed and I miss her and I feel so terrible for everything she suffered. My emotions are raging in every possible direction, and I feel as though my brain is about to literally implode. I'm on information overload and have the urge to _do_ something. What, exactly, I have no idea. I don't know what to do.

So I throw a little tantrum – growl low in my throat, limbs flailing, and eyes tightly closed – before wearing myself out. I sit here on the couch, breathing heavily and trying to collect my thoughts. It doesn't work. Letting out a chest-rattling sigh, I open my eyes only to see Tia staring at me in concern from across the room.

I find her presence so alarming I let out a cry and progress to actually fall off the couch in. So enthralled was I with Bella's words, I completely forgot my friend was still here.

I wish the yelp I let out sounded a little less like Alice and a little more like a, you know, man.

In my shock, confusion, anger, humiliation, and sorrow, I decide I could really use a moment to collect myself, and just continue to lie flat on my back on the hard floor.

That is an awfully large crack in our ceiling. I hope the landlord knows it exists.

"Edward!" Tia shouts when I do no sit up. She rushes to my side and bends over, hair hanging down in a curtain as she stares at me. "Are you okay?"

"I forgot you were still here," I explain, making no attempt to move.

"I see," says Tia, moving to sit on the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh…"

"I mean you don't have to if you don't want to. It obviously isn't good if your position on the floor is any indication," she continues. "On a side note, I made tea. Would you like some?"

"I guess."

She bustles off to the kitchen, and my brain goes back to Bella and the baby and all the drugs she ingested and James.

I relax into the floor again when I remember that she didn't do what I spent the last week thinking she did. Bella cares. Bella wanted to have my baby. Bella thought about me while she was away. I might possibly be able to forgive her after all.

I find myself smiling slightly.

"I gotta go," I say when Tia returns.

"Go?" she asks. "Go where?"

"Boulder."

"You can't go to Boulder."

"I'm a grown ass man Tia," I reply, sitting up. "I can go where ever the hell I want."'

I stand I begin gathering my shit, suddenly in a rush to get to Bella. I have so many questions. I locate my phone, a device I haven't seen in days, and don't even bother shoving it in my pocket because it is dead as a doornail.

"No, I mean you can't drive to Boulder," Tia says, sighing in exasperation following me around as I search for my wallet and keys.

Lord, this apartment is a sty. How could I let it get this bad? This is truly disgusting, and I'll have to thoroughly scrub it down when I get back from Boulder.

"Of course I can drive to Boulder," I reply, not really listening to my friend. "It's pretty much a straight shot once you get on 36."

I locate my keys in the freezer and continue the search for my wallet.

"No, I mean that you have been drinking all day!" she shouts, finally losing patience with me. "Or maybe it's been all week, from the smell of you."

I pause in my movements, turning to look at her as stomach falls when I realize that she's right. The thought of not seeing Bella tonight momentarily depresses me, but I quickly regroup.

"The bus!" I declare before taking up the search again.

"Okay, fine," Tia says, still following me. "But can you please tell me what you found out? You are really alarming me."

"She didn't so it," I mutter as I scour.

"Do what?"

"She didn't do what I thought she did. She had a… a miscarriage," I explain, my insides hurting when I think about the loss.

"Oh my God!" Tia exclaims, coving her mouth and blinking rapidly. "That terrible. Are you okay?"

"Well… um… No. Not really. A little bit. I'm hoping to be okay after I get the details from Bella," I stutter, not really knowing how to answer.

"Okay. Yeah. That's probably a good idea," says Tia, helpful as usual.

"Huzzah!" I find my wallet wedged in the bowels of the couch, lifting it above my head in triumph. "Okay, I'm off."

I move towards the door, focused singularly on getting to Bella as quickly as possible.

"Wait!" Tia yells, stopping my progress.

"What?" I yell back, thoroughly irritated that Tia has kept me from Bella longer than I want.

"You aren't wearing shoes!" she says, flapping her hands at me in exasperation. "Or a shirt!"

I glance down at my body, taking in a whole lot of skin. I appear to be wearing only a pair of drawstring pajama pants with little microscopes on them.

"Ah," I say, blushing and feeling excessively foolish. "Right. Thank you."

I rush around the apartment, pulling on a nice button up and sweater vest before sliding my feet into the first pair of shoes I see.

I don't even realize until I'm at the bus stop that they are Ben's Birkenstocks. It's fucking freezing, and I wiggle my toes as an attempt to regain some feeling in them. Also, I should have pulled on a jacket.

On the bus to Boulder, I develop a plan. There is too much going on in my head. I am on information overload, and I need to focus. The baby. That's what I have the most questions about. That's what seems important. We have so much to talk about, and I am realistic to acknowledge that there is no way we can hash out everything tonight. So I prioritize. The baby. We will talk about the fact that we almost had a baby.

Shit.

I still quite get my head around the idea.

It takes me the entire bus ride to Boulder to successfully focus my thoughts and dispel all – well, most – ruminations of James and the rest of it from my brain.

My heart stops when I reach the house on Goss, and I look up to see Bella sitting on her roof, cigarette dangling from her fingers as she stares down at me with wide eyes. In the half-light of dusk, she looks otherworldly – terribly haunting and extraordinarily beautiful.

I love her. I hate her. I need her. I want to hold her close and make all her pain dissipate. I want to scream at her, begging her to tell me why she couldn't talk to me when it really mattered the most. I want to cry in her arms. I want her to make me feel better.

I attempt to quell the raging and diverse emotions I feel as I stare up at her, immobile.

She appears to be crying, but its getting dark rapidly so I can't really tell. But then she sniffs, whipping her nose on the sleeve of the flannel shirt she wears. I am borderline positive the shirt was once mine.

Suddenly, I can't reach her quick enough. But when I finally push open the bedroom door and stalk over to her where she sits cross-legged on the bed, I don't know what to say or do.

So I give her back the oh so enlightening journal that I didn't even know I was clasping in my hands.

"Read it," I murmur, avoiding her gaze. She's just as unkempt as me, and fresh pain cuts through me at the thought of her suffering. And I really don't want her to be in pain. She's had enough of it in the last few years, but at the same time I'm still so angry with her.

"All of it?" she whispers, staring up at me from her position on her bed with those brown eyes that always seem to see right down to my soul. I want to touch her, and I find myself looking at her in a whole different way. Its all very confusion, this rush of emotion I feel for her as she looks so lost and small.

"All of it," I reply with a nod and a frown as I remember the particularly unpleasant bits of the journal. Mostly the entries with James. But I can't even think about that now without getting furious. During this conversation, I plan to focus solely on the baby.

"Good, good," she says, nodding back and biting her lip. This is damn stressful and fucking awkward and all I really want to do is run my thumb over her bottom lip.

I stand at the foot of the bed, looking down and shuffling my feet. I can feel her gaze scorching my skin, but I'm still having a hard time looking at her yet. We linger in terrible, tense silence for far too long, and I don't know how to begin.

"Do you want to yell at me? It might make you feel better to just let it all out," Bella quietly suggests.

I just shake my head, continuing to study the floor. The last thing I want to do is yell at her. So I just stand there, mute, trying to figure out a way to express how I feel. I don't know how to make Bella understand because I don't even get it myself.

Another minute passes in silence as I try to gather my thoughts. Now that I'm here, I just don't know what to do.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bella sit up and approach me. Tentatively, as though any sudden movement will spook me, she slowly rises onto her knees and shuffles towards me. My body tenses because I both dread and desire her touch.

She moves slowly forward until our bodies are mere inches apart. It's magnetic, what I feel for her, and I can't keep but sigh as she reaches out to stroke my cheek. I lean into her touch. Encouraged by my response, she wraps her arms my neck and presses her body into mine. Bella lets out a little sob as I return her embrace. She strokes my hair, and I squeeze her tight, feeling more whole than I've felt in a very long time.

"There was a baby," I whisper miserably. I still have a hard time really believing it.

At my words, Bella totally falls apart. I blink down at her in shock. Although I've seen her shed a few tears since her return, this uncontrolled display of over the top emotion is completely against everything I've ever known about the old Bella. I remember not believing Alice about Bella crying in her arms, and really start to see that she's changed.

This is not what I expected. At all. Then again, I never expected Bella to let me in enough to read one of her journals.

I hold her as she sobs hysterically into my chest. Keeping her in my arms, I climb across the length of the bed, bringing us to rest against the headboard. I make soothing sounds in her ear as I rock her. Nothing I do seems to have much effect, and her hands fist in my shirt.

Bella babbles incomprehensible apologies. She gives him a thousand more I'm sorrys. I want to ask what exactly her is apologizing for, but I doubt she would be able to give me an answer.

Her pain is ripping me apart, and I find my own eyes leaking in response. Her hurt compounds mine, and we cling together, riding out the storm.

Eventually her hysterics abate, but I continue to hold her without speaking. I stroke the side of her face, occasionally running my fingers through her hair.

"Edward?" Her question is hoarse and pathetic.

"Yes, love?" I ask, preparing myself for another drop on this emotional rollercoaster that we're been on since her return.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" she whispers.

And I laugh. Hard. I laugh and laugh, and Bella joins me. We laugh ourselves out, but eventually Bella's laughter turns back to crying, and I go back to soothing her as I pull her close.

Again, I calm her down. She hiccups and shudders slightly, but seems okay so I decide its safe to speak.

"I'm ready to talk now, Bella," I say quietly as she settles, sniffing against my chest. "If you are."

I glance down to see her close her eyes, snuggling deeper into my chest for a moment. She gives me a final squeeze before pulling away to sit cross-legged on the bed in front of me. I get upset for a moment because we are no longer touching, but I realize it probably for the best.

"Okay," she says with a final sniff, playing with a loose thread in the comforter. I fold my hands in my lap and sit straight against the headboard.

"That December… you were… we could have…" I stutter, the words getting stuck in my throat.

"Yes," she replies, looking like she's going to cry again. "I found out right after finals. After graduation. I kept throwing up, and I was late so I took the stupid test. That's how Rose knew. She walked in on me in the bathroom. I wasn't planning on telling anyone."

My heart drops when I realize she was never planning on telling me. She never thought I deserved to know, had the right to know.

"What meant was I would never have told Rose before you," she says in a rush, instantly calming me somewhat. "And I didn't tell you because I wanted to know for sure."

"Know you sure?" I ask, confused.

"Yeah… I made a doctor's appointment for right before the New Year," she replies. "And so I did the tests and was judged by the nurse when she forced to tell her how many sexual partners I've had and they weighed me and all that doctor shit—"

"Bella," I say, stilling her shaking hands. "Deep breaths. You're rambling."

"I know," she replies, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Just tell me exactly what happened," I encourage.

I want to hear her say it. Maybe if I hear it come out of her mouth I will be able to believe it. Plus I really do need to know the details.

"I was… We were…" she sighs heavily and closes her eyes again. "There was a baby."

I let out a low, shuddering breath and fist my hands in my hair.

"So I took three pregnancy tests and there was a baby but then I went to the doctor and there… wasn't," she continues, not meeting my gaze. "The doctor said disappeared. Apparently it happens. There was no heartbeat or anything. It was around nine weeks when it… uh… happened."

"Oh, Bella," I reply, my voice breaking. I move to hug her because her pain is breaking my heart, but she shuffles back away from me. Bella holds up a palm, indicating that she doesn't want me to touch her.

I try not to be offended.

"And that was for the best," she whispers. "It was a good fucking thing, in theory. Best possible scenario. But it didn't feel that way."

"Bella—" I try again because I really hate to see her suffer.

"Let me just get this all out, okay?" she asks.

I nod, and she takes another moment to compose herself.

"There were a few weeks, between taking the test and the disappearance, when I… got used to the idea, I guess. At first, I'll admit I didn't want it. Couldn't handle it. I was planning on telling you, but I wasn't going keeping it. That probably doesn't surprise you, and it hurts to admit it now, but at first there was no fucking way I was keeping it."

I don't know what to think, so I just sit there, completely focused on Bella's distraught face.

"But then… I kinda liked it."

My eyebrows go way up, and my mouth twitches. This was the sentiment conveyed in her journal, but there is a big difference between reading about it and having her confirm this in person. She wants it.

"I had this stupid idea that a baby would fix me somehow. Like doing a baby right would make up for all the stuff I did wrong. I could raise a baby like Renee failed to raise me. A baby could be my redemption, give my life purpose. And then I got all these images of us hiking the Flatirons or sitting by Boulder Creek with a bronze haired, green eyed little…"

Bella trails, and pulls her legs up to hug them tightly to her chest. I am equally upset, and I reach out to take her hand. The image she conjures makes my chest hurt.

"Anyway," she says with a sniff. "I was still terrified. Absolutely petrified that I wouldn't be able to do it."

"We're you scared to tell me?" I blurt, feeling guilty for interrupting.

"No," she answers without pause. "I was scared because telling you would make it real. But I never had any doubts about you being there or taking care of me or anything like that."

I let out another shuddering breath, moving forward on the bed and wrapping my arms around her, legs and all. It is so good to hear her say that.

"I wanted it," she murmurs, pushing her nose into my neck. "I can't really explain why, and I know it seems totally out of character for me, but I wanted it. I didn't even really realize how much until that fucking doctor announced that our baby just disappeared."

She wanted it. She wanted our baby. This information is leaving me totally gob smacked.

"Oh, Bella," I say again with a low exhale before she puts space between us again. Why does she keep doing that?

I didn't think my heart could hurt anymore than it did last week, but seeing visual proof of Bella's pain beyond just reading the words is killing me.

"I was already… not right. Charlie had just died, and I graduated and didn't know what to do with myself. Plus you were getting all serious and talking about putting off grad school and freaking me the fuck out. So when the disappearance thing happened… I just couldn't deal," she explains.

I sit back against the headboard, pinching the bridge for my nose as I process what she said. I still get so angry when I think about the way she left, even if the circumstances were totally different than I originally thought.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, still not understanding fully. "Why didn't you let me help you? We could have gone through it together, but you didn't even give me the option."

"I know, and I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to hurt like I was hurting," she replies, picking at her burgundy nail polish and avoiding my gaze.

"What else? Please, for once just tell me what you're thinking," I plead.

She sighs heavily and does as I ask. "At the time, I was pretty certain the whole miscarriage thing was my fault."

I stare at her in horror for a minute before replying.

"Bella, that's ridicu—"

"Stop fucking interrupting me," she requests, sounding amazingly calm. "That's how I felt. Before I took the test, I was still drinking and smoking all sorts of shit. But beyond that I convinced myself that it was my general… badness and unlovableness that made my… our… our baby disappear. I felt toxic. Like there was too much negative in me to taint something so innocent. The universe is not that cruel."

"Isabella," I whisper, placing a palm over her wet cheek and tilting my face to mine. Tears pool in her eyes and mine as well. "That is the most heart breaking thing I've ever heard you say."

"I don't believe that any more," she replies, and I hope this is the truth.

"I really, really hope you mean that," I say, smiling at her softly.

"I really, really do," she assures me. "But that's how I felt when I left. I felt toxic and guilty. I felt like my fucked-upness killed our baby."

"Bella, you should have told me!' I yell, yanking on my hair vigorously. Suddenly I'm mad. I feel so powerless. I can't fix us now just like she would let me fix us then.

"I know," she says, prying my hands off my head and holding them in her lap. "I know. But I really just couldn't, Edward. So many bad things happened, and I was not okay."

"I could have helped," I insist, running my thumbs over his knuckles.

"No, Edward," she replies softly. "You couldn't have helped me because I couldn't have let you. Not then. I wasn't ready to be that dependent on you, especially because I was convinced that I was destroying you."

"You weren't destroying me," I tell her, feeling so sad. "Until you left."

She chuckles humorlessly. "It's ridiculous. Leaving was my first big attempt to _not_ be selfish with you. I was so positive that leaving you was for the best. I was trying to be selfless. With all your talk about putting off grad school, and traveling, and moving in together. I knew you deserved progress and commitment, but I couldn't give it to you. And that was okay, most of the time. But when you started talking about not going to school. Giving up on your lifelong doctor dreams…"

"That is such bullshit," I huff, even though I now know that all my talk of not going to grad school was a really bad move on my part. "You didn't have to leave for me to go to school."

"I know," she says, picking nervously at her nail polish again. "I know that now. But I was already feeling so guilty for ruining your life—"

"You didn't ruin my life! Until you left—"

"I thought I was ruining your life before," she yells, getting a little hysterical now. "And then the baby disappeared and I knew you would find out if I stuck around because you know me too well and I wouldn't have been able to keep it from you. I didn't want you hurting, Edward. Plus, I knew if you found out, there would be no way to convince you to go to grad school. That you throw all your efforts into fixing me. So I left."

I stare at her intently for an uncomfortably long time, before exhaling loudly. Her words are upsetting, but at least I see where she is coming from. I would do pretty much anything to protect Bella from hurt, and after reading the journal I am starting to see that she cares about me enough to do the same. The tension leaves my shoulders, and my head falls forward until I let it rest against her shoulder. My nose brushes her collarbone, and she reaches up to run her fingers through my hair, comforting me.

"I had the right to know," I murmur. "It was not fair. I should have… I should have… been able to grieve. You took that away from me."

"I know, sweetheart," she replies. I feel her hot tears against my cheek. "It was a mistake, and I am so sorry."

She kisses my temple, wrapping her arms around my back.

"You can grieve now," she suggests. "We can grieve together."

And so we do. She sobs and a few manly tears slip down my cheeks as we lay on the bed, facing each other. And it feels good. Cathartic, especially after the miserable week I had thinking the very worst of her. Mostly, I feel relieved that we still have a chance.

Bella has never been this emotionally open with me before, and I'm a little in awe of her.

I don't really know who kissed whom first, but somehow tentative touches lead to chaste kisses that quickly turn to the lingering, heated kind.

I can't really believe that this is happening. I can't really believe I'm kissing Bella again. This is probably a big mistake, and I didn't intend on doing anything of this sort, but right now her lips against mine are just too comforting and arousing to stop.

At first, it is gentle and innocent, but Bella gets restless and tugs insistently on my shoulders until I'm on top of her. Bella's legs come around my hips, and I push a hand into her hair after peeling off my sweater. I groan into her mouth as she rakes her hands down my back. I kiss her with everything I have, and she whimpers in response.

Bella's kisses are languid, but intense. I match her passion, wishing every part of our relationship could be this easy.

My heart is hammering out of my chest as I let out everything I feel for her.

Bella tentatively pops open the buttons of my shirt, and I pant as she rests her hand over my heart.

Emboldened by many, many minutes of this delicious slow torture, Bella runs her hands down the planes of my now naked chest. I let out a soft, low moan as she brushes over my nipples with her thumbs on my way south.

This is too fast. I need a moment. There is still so much we haven't discussed, and I still don't know if I can handle this yet. I don't know if I want this yet. I honestly don't even know if I can be with her again.

But Bella is right here.

My mouth leaves her lips to neck on my collarbone, and her breath gets erratic.

I'm dizzy with everything I feel for this woman, but it's too much. I can't do this. But then I move lower, parting the collar of my flannel shirt that she wears with my chin before dining on the swell of her breasts.

She lets out a little whimper, and fumbles blindly with the drawstring of my ridiculous pants. I grind my thigh against her crotch as she struggles to free me, and she groans loudly in response. We move more desperately against each other, and are both panting by the time she finally get my hands around me.

But then I realize I really, really can't do this.

One moment she is moaning against my skin and my cock is in her palm, the next I leave her on the bed, lying alone on her back and grasping nothing at all. She sits up quickly, blinking in confusion and glancing around the room.

I have jumped ship and stand, chest heaving with my labored breaths, against the door on the far side of the room. My hands dig into the frame behind me, and I hold on for dear life because this grip is the only thing keeping me in place. I just stand there, panting and gazing at Bella with a mixture of desire and panic. She pants and stares back in return, clothing akimbo, bemused by this sudden turn of events.

I really fucking want her. But I just can't

We continue to gaze intently at each other as our breathing settles. For one terrifying moment, I almost decide to kiss her again but somehow I resist.

"I can't." It's a harsh whisper that probably would never have been heard if the room wasn't so quiet.

"Okay," Bella croaks out, her voice breaking.

For a moment I think she is going to cry again, and I really don't want that. Any more of her tears will surely destroy me and my resolve to stay away from her.

"Please," I say. I step away from the wall, hand lifting towards her for a moment but then I hastily retreat. The urge to comfort her is almost overwhelming. "Please don't be upset."

She chuckle humorlessly, impatiently wiping away the tears now silently falling down her cheeks. "Don't be an ass, Edward," she mutters.

"Pardon?" I ask, completely shocked by her response.

"I can understand," she says, speaking quietly, "after all my fuck ups and everything I did to you. I can understand you not wanting me. I get it. I really do. Getting you back was a long shot anyway. But the person I want to spend the rest of my life with doesn't want to be with me. So don't fucking tell me not to be upset. You don't want anything to do with me, and its very, very upsetting." The last few sentences are a bit garbled as her tears increase in number.

Although she wouldn't meet my gaze while she spoke, now she looks up at me with big, watery eyes. I could never be mad at her when she looks at me like this.

Wait.

What did she say?

"You want to spend the rest of your life with me?" I exclaim, eyes wide.

She whines and sniffles.

"I want you forever," she confesses with a little sob.

Joy explodes in my chest, and it gets even harder to refrain from rushing to her. But it's not enough. After everything that's happened, I'm just not ready. We are moving to fast.

Sighing loudly, I run my hands through my hair. I don't even know what to say.

"Don't be ridiculous, Isabella," I tell her with a loud exhale of breath. "Of course I want you."

Because I do. In every way imaginable. But this is just so confusing. I love her and abhor her all at the same time.

"I… I can't be…b-be your fuck buddy… a-anymore," she stutters, totally misinterpreting my words. "You're right. It's way too hard. I want… I want more."

"Bella—"

"Okay," she says, interrupting me as I slowly and warily approach her again. Bella, fumbling slightly, begins to unbutton her shirt. "One more time. But only because I want to remember this one thing that was perfect between us."

What the fuck is she talking about?

It takes me a minute to realize exactly what she means, and when I do I completely panic.

"Whoa!" I yell, rushing over to the bed and stilling her fingers. I carefully make sure that I only make contact with her hand and the cloth because if I touch anymore of her I won't be able to control myself. "For the love of all that is holy, you have to stop!"

Bella just blinks at me and attempts to run her fingers through my hair. I jerk away because that will just feel too good. It would cause me to lose my fragile grip on my sanity.

The tears start again.

"You can't touch me right now, love," I say in what I hope is a soothing tone. "I can't handle the shivers at the moment. Your touch will make me completely lose it."

"Huh?" she asks, gaping at me now.

"You misunderstand me, Bella," he says, re-buttoning her shirt. "I do want you, in every imaginable way."

She glares at me as I tentatively wipe her cheeks clean of tears with the pad of my thumb.

"Then why the fuck won't you fuck me?" she demands, pouting at me as her voice breaks.

With a heavy sigh, I pull away to pace around the room. I feel like half of this conversation is me sighing. So I just talk. Tell her what I'm feeling.

"Listen, Bella. Sex really complicated things with us last time around. That's where we started, and for a long time that was the only way you could manage to show me you cared. I want things to be different this time. We had the steps wrong, but this time I want to go slow. I want to try just being your friend," I say, causing my own heart to break a little bit.

"You want to be my friend?" she asks in disbelief.

"I'm just not ready for anything else," I admit with a frown as my hands once again find their way into my hair. "I can't be with you, Bella. I'm still processing all this new information, weaving it into what I thought I knew about your disappearance. Part of me is still so angry at you for leaving and for not telling me about the baby. I need time to heal, and so do you. I want to be able to trust you again, and I don't think that's going to happen if we jump back into a relationship."

I pause my little diatribe, venturing a glance at her face. She grimaces and I scramble to concoct a plan in case she refuses. What if she demands more? What will I do then? Cut her out? Give in?

"So what does that mean?" she whispers. My pacing is making me dizzy.

"What do you mean what does that mean?" I respond, finally stopping my caged-big-cat-esque movement.

"What does being your friend entail?" she asks, looking panicked now. "I mean, are you just going to go back to Denver, never to be heard from again? When will I see you? What will we do?"

I smile now, sitting on the edge of the bed and tilting my body towards her. She wants me around, and I know this fact should be obvious by now, but I'm still getting used to the idea.

"Well," I reply. "School is quite time consuming so I might not always be great company, but I would like to continue seeing you as much as possible."

"Really?" she asks, beaming up at me like a light bulb.

"Of course, silly girl," I say, smiling at her again. "I can't imagine not seeing you now that you are back in my life. I would miss you too much."

This has her blushing and grinning. I love her blush.

"I would miss you too," she replies.

"So weekends, if I don't have too much to study, I'll come up here. And when you have days off you should come see me. Although you might have to entertain yourself while I study," I say, again with my hands compulsively in my hair.

She looks thoughtful, but I terrified she will call me on my calm façade. If she pushes me now, I will probably cave. I've never been particularly good at resisting her. Its something I obviously need to work on.

"Okay," she says, nodding shyly.

We sit in silence for a moment, thinking. Bella seems to calm down while I strengthen my resolve.

"Do you think we can do it?" she murmurs at some point. "Be friends, I mean?"

"We'll have too," I reply, smiling. "But I really should be leaving now. School starts Monday, and I want to go over the reading I completed at the beginning of break."

"You have to go?" she whines. "But you basically just got here."

"Bella," I reply with a chuckle. "We've been talking for hours."

"Among other things," she mumbles in reply, reminding me of our truly remarkable make out secession. And also the crying jag.

"You're really going to make this just friends thing difficult, aren't you?" I demand with a groan.

She just shrugs and looks at me like she wants to eat me.

"Well, I really need to be going," I say again, standing back up. Bella just nods and pouts. She looks so damn beautiful, I can't help but give her a proper goodbye. I lean over to kiss her forehead. My eyes flutter closed in response to the sparks between us. "Goodbye, love."

"Goodbye, sweetheart," she replies as I move towards the door. My heart hurts a little as I move into the hall. But then I have a question that I can't believe I forgot to ask. A moment latter my head pops back through the open door.

"Back already?" she asks with a nervous little chuckle.

I probably shouldn't ask. There is already so much new information being processed in my head, I hardly need to add more, but my curiosity gets the best of me.

"Bella, where did you go?" I inquire. "In the journal it seemed like you were only on the road for about a year, yet you've been gone for two."

"Ah. Yes," she replies, smiling at me. "I went to Forks."

"Forks?" I shout because it is the last possible place I would have imagined.

"Yes, Forks," she replies, nodding.

I step fully inside the room, closing the door behind me and sitting on the end of her bed. Apparently, I won't be going home quite yet.

"Isabella," I say. "What happened in Forks?"

* * *

**So, originally the flashback for this chapter was Bella in Forks, but this chapter got so long I had to split it into two. It should be up by the weekend. I hope.**

**If you aren't in to the past story line, skip it. (I'm talking to you cranky anon who thinks I don't read my reviews)**

**Review? (Because I totally read and appreciate each and every review) Please? If you feel like it?**


	24. What Happened in Forks

**Dang, you guys like the reunion. Some peeps wanted them to immediately get back together but that's not realistic. They still got a ways to go.**

**ONWARD- Like I said, this one is all flashback. Wait till next time if that ain't your thang.**

**Thank you. Seriously. So much for everything.**

**Review if you feel so inclined. **

* * *

January 1, 2010

I'm having a hard time making myself step foot on my fathers property. Instead of walking up the short driveway, climbing the four stairs, passing over the porch, and crossing the threshold, I've just been standing out front on the sidewalk for the last forty-five minutes.

I'm in desperate need of a shower. I've gotten used to being a dirty hippy, living mostly out of the back of a van, but that doesn't mean I'm not looking forward to once unappreciated luxuries. The good people of Port Angeles looked at me with distaste when I made a pit stop there to refill my rental car. My hair is a step away from dreadlocks at this point.

I'm in equally desperate need of a good, long nap. I haven't slept since that cab finally arrived to the bar outside of which the van was parked last night.

And I was at a totally loss when it did show up.

"Where too, ma'am?" the cabbie asked with a thick southern accent.

Being slightly drunk, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I knew I wanted to leave but didn't know where I wanted to go.

"Nearest airport," I murmured.

I wanted to be far away from here, away from these people who think they know me and don't want me to get better.

Once at the airport, I found the terminal deserted. It was very late at night and New Year's Eve, so I curled up on several fake leather airport seats, and waited for any airline to open. It was for the best. It gave me time to think.

Boulder was my first instinct and my first desire, but I am nowhere near ready for that. He — Edward — is in Boulder. And if I went back now, nothing would change. I can't control myself around Edward. As much as I believe that his life is better without me, my need for him would trump that. I would weasel my way back into his life, heart, bed, only to end up hurting him again. Maybe if I get better, I can go home and find the strength to leave him be.

So Boulder was out, but still my ultimate goal for the future.

After I ruled out home, James words echoed in my head._ You don't got nowhere to go, you selfish bitch. You don't got nowhere to go. You don't got nowhere else to go._

For many dark hours, I started to believe them. I've always been homeless, motherless, fatherless. Unlovable. But somewhere around dawn, I realized this was not totally the case.

Charlie left me a house, his house. My father's house and the house where I spent the first two years of my life. He gave me a home, probably thinking I might need somewhere to go someday. As the sun rose over the horizon, Forks became more appealing. It was a tentative connection to all the people that once thought they loved me. Forks was once the home to Charlie, my dad, Alice, my best girlfriend, and Edward, my…

My Edward.

So when the first ticket agents started their computers, I rushed over and purchased my ticket to Seattle.

The point is, I didn't sleep all night because I was busy thinking, nor did I get much sleep on the plane. As I made the four-hour drive from Seattle, shit got real. Living in Charlie's home freaked me out. The looming need to get better but not really knowing how to start freaked me out.

But I'm here now. And there really is nowhere else to go. It's hard, confronting all the demons I've spent so long burying deep. The moment I step into Charlie's old house, I'm committed to working through my problems.

Maybe I'll just shoot for an even hour.

The sun's setting, and I'm not used to the cold.

"Bella Swan?"

I don't even want to turn to find out who is calling my name. It's sure to bring complications. But I'm done sticking my head it the sand. I'm workin' on a new Bella who confronts the unpleasant shit head on.

So I turn. Shit, I do know him. Blond hair, blue eyes, baby face. I know I know him. What the fuck is his name? The man/boy is standing at the end of the driveway next to Charlie's depositing a blue, wheeled trashcan.

"Hey," I say with an awkward little wave. "Sup?"

What the fuck is his name? All these drugs have caused my brain to slow down.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, sauntering on over and surveying the large duffle at my feet.

"Oh, you know. Just taking in the street I guess," I reply.

"Yeah, it's been a long time. You look…" He does a quick survey and forces a smile. "Wow, you're here."

I try to smile in return, but it comes out a grimace. I'm well aware that my mediocre looks have deteriorated severely in the last fucking year. It's a combo of the drugs and the misery. I'm not very good at eating anymore so my cheeks are hallowed and my bones stick out. Dark circles linger perpetually under my eyes, and I don't even bother to cover them up. Most of the time I look a bit strung out.

"Are you moving back?" he asks when I don't reply.

"Back?" My voice is creaky, and I realize I haven't really spoken all damn day except briefly to the rental car dude.

"Yeah, you lived here one summer, right?" he asks.

"Oh, yeah. Right. But that was only for like a month," I reply. I'm borderline positive it's something with an M. Mitch maybe?

"I remember," he says with a chuckle. "You had some emergency and had to go back to Colorado. You quit working in my store early."

Right. That totally happened. Edward was irrationally jealous of this dude. What the fuck is his name?

"Uh huh," I agree. "But wasn't that your parents store, if I recall?"

Look at me, making the small talk. I'm so proud.

"It _was_ my parents," he replies, beaming now. "They retired a couple years ago, moved to Florida. Newton's is all mine now."

Mike! Mike Newton. That's his fucking name. He was at Alice and Jasper's wedding for fucks sakes. Damn, I really need to stop with the mind alternating substances.

"Congrats, Mike," I say as he continues grin with pride. "That's really great. You enjoying it then?"

"Very much. I've been working there since I was a little kid, but it's totally different being the boss, yah know?"

I nod along, even if I have no fucking clue what it's like to be in charge.

"I can imagine," I reply. Mike's presence is enough to motivate me to enter Charlie's house. "Well, I just got in, and I'm wiped."

"Of course, I'll let you go. Have a good night, neighbor!" He waves jovially before basically skipping up the driveway. His preppy, all-American, good guy thing is really exhausting, and I don't recall him actually living next door.

So I tromp up Charlie's front porch, fiddling with the key that has been on my chain since my dad gave it to me the summer I attempted to live with him. It rests with the key to the house on Goss, one to the Black's house, and the key to my beast of the truck.

They are all so useless at this point in my life.

I push on into the house, dropping my duffle at my feet as I enter the living room. Everything looks the same, excepted dustier. I should have more memories here with my dad. But Renee robbed me of that in my youth, and I fucked it up in my adulthood, and then he died, and now it's too late.

Also, I can't even fucking believe I'm a homeowner.

Someone, presumably Esme, covered all the furniture with big, white sheets. She's been taking care of the property for me.

Holy fuck. Esme Cullen.

Until this moment, I'd completely forgot about the Cullen parents and how they fucking live here and all. They always tried so hard to make me feel welcome. Never was the effort a success, but I appreciated it anyway.

Fuck, they must hate me now.

But there is really nowhere else to go.

I move to the stairs, trying to flick the lights on. I'm thankful they come on at all, but then remember when Edward helped me set up the automatic bill payment right after Charlie died. The heat is set just to keep the pipes from freezing.

Please let this mean there will be running water.

Dumping my backpack in my old bedroom (there is no way I'm ready to brave Charlie's room yet), I bolt towards the bathroom, groaning in relief when the water coming out of the shower warms.

I strip with the speed of a ravenous dog in the proximity of a particularly succulent chunk of meat and remove my hair from the messy knot on the top of my head. It may be the longest, most glorious shower of my life. There is no soap or shampoo or anything, but I don't particularly care.

It all hits me at once during the shower. After a year of slowly killing myself and ignoring all my issues, I've made the decision to get better.

But where the hell do I start?

Most of the longest, most glorious shower of my life involves sitting in the stream, sobbing hysterically.

Thankfully, there are still towels in the linen closet. I wrap myself in a musty towel, and collapse into my purple twin bed.

I realize the last time I slept here, it was in Edward's arms a moment before I fall asleep.

I sleep for a solid sixteen hours, and for once I don't dream of anything. For the first time in a long time, my stomach rumbles. I haven't eaten in over a day.

Step one of getting better officially means getting healthy. I'm starting with my physical wellbeing because it's a baby step. It's the easiest this to fix. All I have to do is eat, exercise, and not do any drugs.

But there is absolutely no food in the house, so I must venture out. After dumping out the entire contents of my pack, I finally find a threadbare black beanie to cover my greasy hair. I also pull on an old red flannel shirt I stole from Edward (the one article of his clothing still in my position), a pair of tight black jeans, and leather bomber jacket.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm seated with a menu at Fork's sole breakfast establishment, a diner. Charlie took me here, and always ordered the same thing.

But I get eggs. Because I love eggs. Because I need to gain at least fifteen pounds to get to a healthy weight.

Listening to my iPod, I munch away in contentment. This is already so much better than being on the road, even if I have no idea what I'm doing with myself. Being here in Forks is what Charlie would have wanted, so maybe my answers are here.

Suddenly a hugely pregnant and vaguely familiar woman slides into the opposite side of the booth causing me to choke a bit on my little piece of scrambled heaven. I quickly remove my headphones and try to swallow.

"Sorry," says the very soon to be mother. "I didn't mean to interrupt your meal. Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," I reply, taking a drink of water to clear my throat. "I'm totally fine."

"I just thought I should say hi. Mike said you were back in town," she continues. Damn, here we go again. What the fuck is her name? Brown hair, blond highlights, small, brown eyes.

"Uh huh," I murmur with a nod, feeling very uncomfortable. This is probably going to be a frequent occurrence in Forks. They all know me as Charlie's daughter, probably met me at the funeral. But there is really very little I remember clearly from Charlie's funeral.

"You don't remember me at all, do you?" she asks, smiling kindly.

"Your face is very familiar," I reply. "Sorry."

"A Thanksgiving party years ago, Jasper and Alice's wedding, sharing a hotel room?" she says, successfully bringing back my memories.

"Oh, shit," I say in surprise. "Jessica Stanley. Alice's friend. You look different, good."

"I knew you'd get it!" she says, absolutely beaming now. "And it's actually Jessica Newton now." She sticks her left hand under my nose and I study the pear shaped diamond that rests in a gold band I find there.

"That's lovely," I reply. "Congrats."

This pleasant conversation is so much different than what I'm used to. And although I find the discussion a little strange, it's not necessarily objectionable.

"Thanks. We haven't been married for very long, just shy of a year," she continues. "This little one was quite the surprise. I had no plans on getting pregnant three months into our marriage, but that's life."

I stare awkwardly at her big belly for a prolonged amount of time, wondering what it feels like. If the universe wanted that for me, I would have a sixth month old depending on me now. It's a strange thought, and I can't actually imagine it, but it hurts my heart anyway.

I come to the surreal realization that I may or may not be jealous of Jessica Stanley-Newton.

"When are you do?" I ask, because I'm pretty sure that's what you're supposed to ask in such situations.

"Three weeks," she says, beaming. "I'm so excited! But nervous. Really nervous."

"You'll be great," I reply, feeling my own face tug into a smile. The foreign expression hurts my cheeks slightly. "So boy, girl, you don't know?"

"Boy! It's a boy." Jessica claps, reminding me of Alice. "We're going to name him Robert after Mike's dad. Robbie for short."

"That's damn adorable," I reply, actually meaning it.

"Thanks," she says. "So, what are you doing back in town?"

"Well, to be honest. I have no idea," I say, to tired to concoct anything false. "Jessica, have you ever had a moment where you realize you just don't like yourself at all? Even a little bit?"

She blinks rapidly for a moment, looking utterly baffled. Apparently, I've lost all social graces while on the road, hanging out with nothing but hooligans. I'm going to have to re-learn how to interact with the normal people.

"Well," she replies, looking thoughtful. "My freshmen year at UW, I did sleep around quite a bit. Mike and I had just broken up and I didn't handle it very well. I mean, I slept with _three_ guys that year."

Now I'm the one blinking rapidly as I try to figure out how many guys I've slept with total. But as the number mounts to ridiculous heights, I get depressed and stop tabulating.

"Well, two if you don't include Mike. But then I stopped going out so much and started focusing on school. We got back together when I was a junior."

"So you guys dated in high school?" I ask.

"Yes, on and off. We were one of those annoying couples that were always breaking up and getting back together. It was good for us, being apart and seeing other people in college, made me see that I've always only really wanted him," she continues.

"Good for you, Jessica," I murmur, definitely jealous of her now. Sometimes, I really hate the happy people.

"So what didn't you like about yourself?" she asks. This conversation is gettin' awfully personal awfully quick. Its uncomfortable, sharing what I'm thinking but I force myself to do it anyway. Its part of the self improvement thing.

"Everything," I reply.

Jessica Stanley now Newton, Alice's best friend from high school, laughs at me. Laughs. Throws her head back and fucking laughs.

"Sorry. I don't know why I found that so funny," she says when she finally gets a hold of herself. "You know, we've never really had a conversation before."

"I know," I agree with a sigh. "It's weird isn't it? Me laying that heavy shit on you without even really knowing you."

"Yeah, it's a little weird. But that's okay. So what are you doing here, Bella?" she asks, smiling at me.

"Well… Edward and I broke up," I hear myself say.

"I heard," she says, nodding and look all sympathetic and shit. "Was it rough?"

"Yes," I reply, admitting it for the first time. "But its all me. I'm the problem. I have all the baggage. And now I want to… have to get better."

"To get back together with him?" Jessica asks.

"No," I say, ruefully shaking my head. "I pretty much destroyed that. It's for the best, really. But I need to get better for me."

"Well, good for you, Swan," she says. "So… what are you going to do first?"

Ah, an excellent question.

"Getting' healthy. Runnin', eatin' right. All that jazz. And a job. Those would be the first steps," I reply.

"Oh my Gosh! A job!" she shouts, clasping her hands together and squeaking in apparent joy. "You worked at Newton's, right?"

"Uh… yeah. For like twelve seconds."

"That's perfect," Jessica continues, the gears turning. "You can have my job."

"Your job?"

"Yup," she says. "Since we got married, I've been working there. I'm a certified teacher, but I got pregnant mid job hunt so Newton's was the obvious choice. I'm huge now! Totally time to hire someone else, but my cheap husband is dragging his feet."

"He wouldn't hire me," I reply. "I quit with no notice last time. I'm a flight risk."

"Oh, that was his parents. And between you and me, I wasn't too broken up when I heard Sarah was moving to Florida. That woman tries my nerves. And you will be perfect. You already know the ropes."

"You think?" I ask, having serious doubts.

"Sure do," Jessica replies with a giggle. "Plus, I have to confess. I know how this town works. When people find out that you are back, they are going to flock to you. And if you're in Newton's…"

"They'll flock to Newton's too," I finish for her. The thought is nauseating, but I really need a job.

"So? Want your old job back?" she asks.

"Yup," I reply, shaking her hand. "You've got yourself a replacement."

March 4, 2009

"Lets talk about your mother."

"I don't want to talk about Renee."

"Okay. Then lets talk about your father."

"I don't want to talk about Charlie either."

"Edward then."

I shake my head.

"The baby?"

"Oh, hell no."

Turns out, therapy is really fucking hard. They make you talk about your feelings and shit. Plus, Dr. Charlotte Dean is one tough cookie.

"Bella," she says, raising an eyebrow at me. "Tell me, what would you like to talk about?"

"The weather?" I venture.

This is only my second secession, and I'm still not very good about spilling my guts to a complete and total stranger. Last week, she made me tell my entire life story. It wasn't too terrible because I just stated the facts; bam, bam, bam. No feelings, just info. This week, the good doctor wants feeling, and I am shit at feelings.

"You do realize that you are here willingly, right?" she asks. "You told me yourself last week that you we're here to 'get better'. That you want to 'confront you demons' and 'be happy'. Those are the goals you outlined in our last secession. How exactly is talking about the weather going to help you reach any of these goals?"

"Listen, Charlotte," I reply. "Can I call you Charlotte?"

"I really do prefer Dr. Dean."

I can't believe I chose a shrink called Dr. Dean. Sounds like a cult leader or the inventor of some sort of get rich quick scheme.

"Charlotte," I continue because I really can't bring myself to say Dr. Dean. "This is real, real difficult for me. I'm not used to talking about my fucking _feelings _and sharing my goddamn woes. I'm much more of a suck it up and deal type."

"Yes, so I gather," she replies. I think I might hate her. Dr. Dean's blond hair is pulled back into a perfect and sever bun. Her grey skirt is without a single wrinkle and her body is totally rocking.

I, by contrast, am a completely disheveled mess in Edward's flannel shirt and a pair of jeans that were once tight, but I've lost so much weight in the last year that they now hang low on my hips. In the month since I came to Fork's, I've gained five pounds and have started running, but I'm still way too skinny. The dark circles under my eyes remain because I can't fucking sleep in Charlie's house without Edward or booze.

"The problem is you're not very good at dealing, Bella. You have to be able to talk about something real," Char says. "Or this is just a waste of time."

Closing my eyes, I take a big breath and exhale loudly. Alright. Something real. Here it goes.

"I miss… my cat," I say finally.

I expect Charlotte to become totally exasperated with this comment, but she remains stoic.

"Tell me about your cat," she replies, thoroughly shocking me. I thought she would flip and tell me to take therapy seriously.

"Uh… Okay. Well, his name is Waldo. He is all gingery and his big green eyes are slightly cross-eyed. He is a total dork, and likes me the best but he always slept on Edward's neck," I hear myself say, smiling slightly.

"Where is Waldo now?"

I giggle at the stupid little joke, but Charlotte doesn't get it. "Ah, well. He is in Boulder. With, um, Edward. I guess. I don't really know, to be honest. I left so suddenly… I didn't really…"

And all of a sudden, the decision to just abandon my life gets a little more enormous. So I completely break down and deteriorate into complete hysterics. I can't even bring myself to look at the good Doc in my shame, and bury my face in the collar of Edward's shirt as I cry.

It stopped smelling like him a long time ago.

"Sorry," I say when I finally get a hold of myself. "What do you think, Char? What do I do?"

"Here is what I think." Charlotte doesn't even seem to acknowledge my break down and for this I'm grateful. "You have mommy issues, daddy issues, baby issues, and boyfriend issues. You have abandonment issues and are unwilling to let anyone get close. You avoid rather than deal, and your fear of being hurt again led you to hurt those most important to you."

"Um—" I try to comment on all that but Dr. Dean just keeps on going.

"I think that you need to understand that Renee's leaving had nothing to do with you, and I think you need to forgive her to let it go. I think you need to be thankful for the time you had with your father and let yourself really grieve in a healthy way. I think you need to forgive yourself about the baby and start dealing with why you wanted it so badly. And mostly I think you need to acknowledge your feelings for Edward and figure out what you want in the future."

"Holy fuck."

"And you need to learn to talk like a lady," she adds. "So. What do you think?"

"I know what I want with Edward in the future," I mumble somewhat defensively. I latch on to the Edward stuff because it's the last thing she said.

"Oh really?" asks Charlotte, raising a perfect eyebrow at me.

"I want to get over him. I want to be able to go back to Boulder and leave him alone."

For the first time, Charlotte sighs and leans back in her plush lavender chair. "We have a lot of work to do. So where do you want to start? I think its safe to say we can pinpoint most of your issues to your abandonment, but we need to talk about these people in your life. So who? Renee, Charlie, Edward, or the baby?"

What a terrible choice. I really, really loathe therapy and Dr. Dean.

May 19, 2009 exclusivity

"Hey, big guy!" I say, swooping four and a half month year old Robbie from the blanket in the center of the Newton's living room where he lays under an arch of colorful toys. I gently poke his adorably round tummy, causing him to giggle joyfully. "Where's your mama, huh, kid?"

I've been requited to babysit for Jess and Mike. They call me a couple times a month to watch Roberto, and I love it. Hanging with the baby is one of my favorite things to do. It still hurts, seeing him grow up and thinking that I almost had one of my own, but it's more of a dull ache. Not sharp and acute like it was when I felt the need to leave Boulder.

"In the laundry room," calls Jessica. "I'll be out in a sec."

"Doin' laundry," I say to Robbie as I sit on the couch. "Mama's doin' laundry. I'll tell you a secret, Rob. I abhor laundry. In fact, I have worn this shirt like eight times without washing it but I think I still smell nice."

"Hello, Bell," Jessica says, entering a room with huge basket full of clean clothes. She dumps the whole thing on a loveseat, sitting down next to it and beginning to fold.

"What's with the laundry? I thought it was date night?"

"Well, it is," replies Jessica, digging through the pile single-mindedly.

"Looks like it's just you and me tonight, pipsqueak," I say, tickling Robbie again. "I love how much he laughs now. It's new! He's so happy."

"The laugh isn't the only new thing," she replies. "He rolled over Wednesday."

"Dang, dude," I say, making goofy faces at the baby in my arms. "Look at you. Rollin' over and stuff. Such a big guy."

"We're so proud," says Jess. "You should have seen the look of determination on his cute little face. At first I thought he was pooing."

I giggle and plant a kiss on the top of Robbie's fuzzy blond head.

"Ah, ha!" Jessica says finally, emerging from her ridiculous stack of clothes with a slinky black dress. "Look at this number."

"Sexy," I reply as she holds it up to her body. "You'll look great in it."

"But you'll look better," she sings.

"What?" I ask.

"It is date night," Jessica says, handing me the dress and taking the baby. This trade does not favor me, and I pout. "But not just for me."

"What?" I ask again.

"You're wearing this dress and you're going with us," she says, grinning at me. Sometimes it shocks me how often Jessica reminds me of Alice. I know they were good friends growing up, even if they have lost touch. I made Jess swear long ago that she wouldn't reveal my whereabouts. I'm just not ready to deal.

"What?" I repeat for the zillionth time.

"Okay, don't be mad. But we're set you up with a friend of Mike's. It's a double date, so no pressure," Jess says in a soothing tone that she usually reserves for her crying son.

"No. Fack no." Jess gets real cranky when I curse in front of thee wee one.

"Bella, you broke up with Edward a year and a half ago," she says. "It's time to start actively moving on. Isn't that the whole point of therapy?"

"One of the points," I mutter with a scowl. 'There is still no way I'm going on a fackin' date."

"Well, don't think of it as a date then," she suggests. "It's just dinner with your dear friend Jessica, her gorgeous husband Mike, and their good, old friend Tyler."

Thirty minutes later, I find myself dressed in a slinky back A-line dress with a sweetheart neckline and wide straps. How do I succumb so easily to peer pressure? I smirk to myself as I slip my feet into a relatively new pair of grey chucks. Sneakers and dresses: my own private form of rebellion.

"I envy you, kid," I say to the pimply teen Jessica called in to replace me as babysitter.

"Who are you talking to?" she ask, blinking up at me with Robbie in her arms. "Me or the baby?"

"Both," I mumble, moving to join the voices I hear near the front door.

Here we go.

It's shocking, but I don't totally hate this Tyler character. He makes me laugh, has good taste in music, and is snarky as shit. The best part is, he reminds me nothing of the boy I left behind. His hair is a dirty brown, his face is round, his eyes are brown, and he's built. Like arms the size of my face, built. Tyler has this self-deprecating thing going on that's oddly charming.

Dinner is startlingly fun, and I'm a little bemused to find myself having a good time. Even if The Lodge, the sole wannabe upscale restaurant with in forty-five miles, is decorated with a multitude of animal heads, the steak is good and the company is better. For the first time in a long time, I live rather than simply existing.

"So, Bella," says Mike. Our empty plates have been cleared away, and we are on our fourth round of drinks. Everyone else at the table is quite tipsy, the lightweights. "How's Dr. Dean?"

Jessica, glaring daggers at her husband, aims a kick at Mike under the table, but misses and gets me in the shin instead. Now I'm the one glaring as I lean down to attempt to rub the pain out of my leg.

"Oh, her same old, bitchy self," I reply, blushing slightly because I am talking about my fucking therapist. "The masochistic slag made me share all sorts of childhood memories this week."

"Who is Dr. Dean?" asks Tyler.

"I cannot believe you brought this up on their first date, Michael Ernie Newton," hisses Jessica. "_They are on a first date_."

"Your middle is Ernie?" I clarify with a giggle. "And this is not a date."

I turn to Tyler who is openly laughing now. "This is not a date," I tell him.

"Okay," he replies.

"Not a date. Just dinner. Between new friends," I continue as Mike and Jessica bicker.

"Here, here," he says, clinking his glass against mine.

"No dating," I say. "And Dr. Dean is my shrink."

"Ah," says Tyler, nodding in understanding. "You've got one of those too?"

"Yeah," I say, chuckling a little because this is a semi awkward. "What's wrong with you?"

"Oh nothing much. My fiancé left me for my best friend while I was serving my country in Iraq. The usual," he replies. "You?"

"I've got childhood abandonment issues and dead dad issues. And ex-boyfriend issues," I tease back.

"Nice," he says, nodding his head.

"Ditto," I reply.

"See, babe!" says Mike, gesturing towards us. "They are bonding over their need for therapy. I planned it like that."

Nobody believes him.

"Do you think we should go on a real date?" Tyler asks as we walk home. Not one of us is fit to drive, so we are hoofing it home. Mike and Jessica walk about twenty feet in front of us, groping each other and laughing.

"No," I reply, shaking my head. His poor, boyish, hopeful face falls, and I feel the need to explain. "It's not you, Tyler."

"Sure," he mutters, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Seriously!" I exclaim, louder than necessary. "I don't want to date anyone. It's too complicated and I need to just focus on getting better right now."

"Well, I guess I can relate to that," he replies. "I guess I'm not as far along in the recovery process as you. I'm still in the 'I want to prove to my ex I'm over her with another lady' phase. I guess dating should be about me, not her, huh?"

"Yup," I agree, wondering if Edward went through that phase.

"So give me the deets on your ex-boyfriend issues. Now that you know all about my pathetic love life," he continues, kicking a can as we make slow progress home.

I wince, thinking that what I have to tell him will probably ruin our emerging friendship. "Unfortunately, I'm a lot more like your ex than you."

He frowns at me, his innocent features turning sharp and mean. "Did you cheat on him?"

"No, never," I say quickly, defending myself. "It's a lot more complicated than that. But basically I left him, left town, without explaining or talking to him at all."

"You just… disappeared?"

I think of my baby and my mother before nodding slowly. "It was a terrible thing to do."

"Than why did you do it?"

"I don't even fucking know. Because I am crazy fucked up and real life got too hard."

Tyler nods in understanding and we walk for a few minutes in silence, but I find myself wanting to talk about Edward. I can't really explain why, especially because I am so hesitant to do some with Dr. Dean, but I feel closer to him in this moment.

"Did you go to Forks High?" I ask.

"Yup, class of 04', baby," he says, giving a tired little fist pump.

"So you know the Cullens?" Obviously he knows the fucking Cullens. Everyone knows everyone in Forks.

He looks at my like I'm a little crazy. "Yeah, I know them. But you know them?" he asks in apparent confusion.

"Yup," I reply, feeling awkward now. "Real well."

"How?"

"College," I explain. "We all went to CU, in Boulder."

"Wow, small world," he replies, probably wondering why the fuck I brought this up. "Emmett and I were pretty tight, both played on like eight sports teams. Plus, I dated Ali a couple times."

"You and Alice!" I exclaim, stopping in my tracks because I'm so fucking surprised. "Holy shit balls! You were probably the weirdest looking couple. She is like a forth your size."

He laughs heartily, and we start walking again.

"Yeah we looked a little ridiculous. I think that's why Ali liked me. We always did have a thing for the ridiculous," he murmurs, smiling fondly.

"Indeed. She still does," I reply.

"Plus it made for some really interesting sex," he muses.

"Yeah, I don't want to know about that."

"I heard she's married now. Do you like the guy or do I need to kick his ass?" he jokes, punching his fist.

"He's a great guy. Last time I saw them, they were so happy," I say with a giggle. "Jasper Whitlock is a southern gentleman."

"Good for her," he replies.

"Do you know, um… Edward?" I ask, tentatively.

"Yeah. Quiet, smart, anti-social," he replies, waving his hand around his head absent-mindedly. "Wears a lot of sweaters."

I giggle like a loon, which leads to pathetic little sniffles. He does wear a lot of sweaters. I miss his sweaters.

"Bella?" Tyler asks, incredulous now. "Are you crying?"

Drunk and ridiculous, all I can do is nod slightly. At least now Tyler has no desire to date me.

"Why?"

"Because I miss his sweaters," I reply, as if that explains anything.

"Okay…" He must totally be questioning my sanity.

"I, uh… we were like, um… he sorta, ah." Lordy, do I sound like an idiot. Tyler continues to stare at me as I take a big, calming breath. "Edward was the boy I left."

"You and Edward?" he asks, not believing me. "You and nerdy, little Edward?"

"He isn't so little anymore," I mutter.

"Wow, I would not have predicted that," Tyler replies.

"Yeah, yeah," I dismiss. "Opposites attract."

We walk in silence for a little longer.

"Tyler?" I ask with caution as we approach the Newton's house "Do you think we could be friends? Even though I am a crazy person?"

"Yeah," he says right away with an affirmative nod. "Its nice talking to someone as fucked up as me. Plus, you can never have too many friends. Right?"

"Right."

September 31, 2010

"Hey, Swan. You're back quicker than I expected." Tyler sits on my front porch, bare feet propped up on my banister, glancing at his watch, and sipping a beer.

With my hands behind my head, my chest rising and falling rapidly with my accelerated breathing, I tromp up the front steps and sit next to him. He has a beer waiting for me on the little glass table between our chairs.

"Seriously, you kept up with me for the first mile, and I've only been back for like ten minutes," he continues when my heart rate slows enough to let me speak.

"I'm getting back into it," I reply, taking a long, cool drink. "Still had to walk that last hilly section though."

"You'll be right there with me soon enough," he says.

We sit it silence, sipping and relaxing. Recently, Tyler has become a good friend. We are two broken souls, navigating our way into getting better.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" he asks eventually.

"Oh, right!" I say, remembering exactly what I need to do. "I wanted to talk to you about that actually. I have a lot of crap I thought you might be interested in."

Finally, after living in Forks for months, I somehow managed the strength to go through everything in Charlie's house, preparing it for when I need to rent it out. Sorting what to keep, deciding what to ditch, and getting to know my dearly departed dad. It was tough, and many a tear was shed, but ultimately it was for the best. Charlie kept a lot of stuff from my childhood that I don't even remember sending him. Artwork, class projects, even the occasional report card. It's proof. Tangible evidence that he did care about me, and even though I mourn his loss, the thought is comforting.

But for every treasure I unearthed, there are mountains of junk. It took me a whole month to go through the basement, and two weeks to clean out the attic. The garage took ten days, but I have finally done it. All of Charlie's possessions sit in boxes in the now clear garage. I dragged a whole lot of shit to the dump, and then stacked the rest of the boxes in a pile to keep and a pile to donate.

"Crap I will be interested in?" he asks, chuckling at me.

"Yeah, for your store." Tyler runs the one consignment shop in Forks. He says he likes being surrounded by used things because everything has a story.

"I don't sell crap, Bella," he scolds. "Only the gently used, once loved."

"Well, Charlie has massive amounts of fishing junk that will probably be pretty popular round these parts," I reply. "Figured I would do my charitable duty and pass them on. The man did love to fish."

"Excellent," Tyler says, clinking his bottle against mine. "The fishing gear always flies off the shelves. Do you have any other outdoor crap?"

"Sure. There is a whole pile of shit that isn't quite junky enough to throw out. You can have any of it. I'll take the rest to that Goodwill in Port Angles."

"Let's get too it!" he says with gusto, rising and walking across the driveway to the garage. Smiling slightly, I finish my beer and follow him.

While watching Tyler's childlike enthusiasm as he digs through the boxes in my garage, I am struck with just how damn lucky I am. I have been blessed with truly wonderful people in my life. Everyone I left behind in Boulder. Maggie and Liam (even if Maggie was a total bitch at the end there) who I also left. Mike and Jessica. Tyler. Eventually I'll leave them too.

"Tyler, why do you hang out with me?" I ask suddenly as he examines some sort of intense looking pocketknife.

"That's a damn good question," he says, not even glancing up from the knife. "You're a slow ass jogger."

I throw a deflated basketball at him.

"Seriously. Don't be a cocksucker."

He laughs and mimes putting the knife in his pocket. I nod and think about punching him until he answers my question.

"We are both kinda the prodigal's sons of Forks, you know? Gone for a long time, returning here to heal from all the fucked up shit we went through out in the real world. You get it more than anyone else here," Tyler says, moving on to the next box.

"I do get it," I reply because it's the truth. Tyler might be more of a lost soul than even me. What with the war and everything.

"Even Mike and Jess," he continues. "I mean, sure. They are great and I love them, but they don't know shit. I mean, Mike went to school in Port Angeles and Jessica hasn't ventured father out of the Forks bubble then Seattle. They've led good, normal, non-traumatic all be it somewhat boring lives."

"I could do with a little boring at this point," I reply, smiling ruefully.

"Same. And that is why we are back in Forks. It's a safe haven. But all that being said, it's still good to have someone to talk to about the dark shit. Other than my fucking shrink," he says, turning to look at me. His eyes narrow in distrust. "Why do you ask? I mean, why do you hang out with me?"

"Pretty much for all those reasons. Solidarity for the fucked up people and all that," I reply. "But I ask because I'm going to leave you. And Mike and Jessica."

"I know that, Bell," he says. Tyler, very gracefully for a man of his massive size, stands from his crouched position on floor and wipes his hands on his gym shorts. I look up at him from my seat on an over turned trash can, feeling guilty although I don't really get why. "Dude, from the moment I met you, you've been pretty damn clear about why you're here."

"I have?" I ask, a little dumb founded. Typically, I hold shit close to the vest, but apparently I have been succeeding in opening up. Huzzah to me.

"Totally," he replies with a chuckle. "I mean the first time we had a conversation you were all 'I don't want to date you, don't even try because I'm super hung up on my ex. I'm going to a shrink because I have a shit ton of abandonment issues, but eventually I want to feel strong enough to go home.'"

"Holy fuck nuts," I say, blinking up at him in shock. "I said all that?"

"You were slightly more eloquent, but yeah."

"I guess that makes sense. I just… don't want you to feel like I am using you. I've used a lot of people in my time, and I don't want to be that way anymore" I confess, blushing violently because I hate admitting what a terrible person I am. It seems like I used everyone in my life while still keeping them at arms length. I don't want to be that person.

"Well, you are giving me a shit ton a sellable shit. So if anyone is using anyone in this friendship I must say it would be me using you," he says, going back to the boxes.

I laugh and stand. "Hey, user," I call as I walk towards the door to the house. "Want another beer?"

"You know it," he replies.

October 4, 2011

"Alight, Roberto," I say, frowning at the massive cereal selection available for purchase at the tiny Forks supermarket. "Lucky Charms or Coco Puffs?"

The baby slaps my hand that is holding on the cart, and doing the spity, blowing thing with his tongue that babies do.

"Lucky Charms it is then," I say, grabbing the box and tossing it in the cart before moving on. Jess is interviewing for a teaching job in Port Angeles today, and I begged Mike to let me take the day off to babysit the little guy. I love hanging with Little Rob. He is one cool dude with his dirty blond hair and big blue eyes.

I pick up a few more of the essentials before moving to check out. As we wait in line, Robbie gets antsy and keeps trying to stand in his little seat so I pick him up. Immediately, he grabs a hand full of my hair. It was stupid of me to leave it down anyway with the baby so close.

"Dude," I say with a laugh when he gives it a particularly hard tug. "You are way to strong to be doin' that."

"Bella?" A voice behind me demands in shock.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before slowly turning to face Esme fucking Cullen. Although I have mentally prepared for this moment, it's not going to be easy. The Cullen parents travel. A lot. But, lucky for me, they have been away for my entire time here.

Until now.

"Hi, uh… Esme," I reply. "How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" she asks, green eyes wide, jaw slack. Damn, she looks like her son. It hurts my heart a little, for multiple reasons, to look at Esme Cullen, and I can't quite bring myself to meet her eye.

"I kinda… uh… um, live here now," I stutter. Its now my turn in line, and I fumble around in my purse for my wallet. It feels like everybody's eyes are on me, and I continue to blush. Robbie pulls on my hair, and I finally manage to hand over my credit card.

With bags in my cart and child on my hip, I turn to look at Esme who is still staring at me.

"Um, so it was good to see you," I say, with a fake smile.

"You're not going anywhere," Esme replies, her voice low and dangerous. "Wait for me."

Oh, fuck. This is going to fucking suck.

Twenty minutes later, I find myself at the Cullen's kitchen table. I sit across from Esme. She poured us each a hot mug of tea, and is tapping her fingernails repetitively against the ceramic. I bounce Robbie on my knee while he munches on some crackers.

Neither of us have yet to speak.

"So…" Esme finally ventures. "Who's this?"

"This is Robbie," I say, cuddling the baby close and smelling his yummy baby-ness and kissing his temple as he giggles in joy. "Say hi, Roberto." He just blows a spit bubble and smacks his lips together, making me smile.

"You're very sweet with him," she murmurs, looking sad.

"Uh, thanks. It's not hard to do," I reply. "Kid's a doll."

"Does he take after his father?" she asks, grimacing slightly. I don't really get this line of questioning, but I could talk about Robs all damn day. It's much easier than what she probably wants to talk to me about.

"Totally," I agree, nodding as I study baby Robbie's adorably round face. "All American good looks, big blue eyes. He's gonna be a heart breaker, huh?"

Again, Esme gives me a tight, forced smile that I don't understand. Anger I would expect, but this sadness is throwing me for a fucking loop.

Her staring and silence is becoming uncomfortable, so I turn to give Robbie another cuddle. He is like an adorable little safety blanket.

"Is that why you left?" she murmurs finally.

"Huh?" is my uber intelligent reply.

"It makes sense now," she continues as if she's talking to herself. "You were carrying another man's child. Although the timeline doesn't quite add up. He looks too young. So was this someone you met here? Are you together?"

And now I am even more lost. For one brief, horrifying moment, I think she is referring to the kid I once carried. But that doesn't make any sense.

"Huh?" I ask again.

"Who is the father?" At least this question I know the answer to.

"Mike… uh… Mike Newton," I reply causing Esme's eyebrows to go way up.

"Oh… my… Sarah never… that's an awkward situation…" Esme stutters. I just stare blankly back, having no idea what's happening. "So are you happy?"

This question I can also answer. Dr. Dean asks me it all the damn time.

"Workin' on it," I reply honestly.

"Are you together? I thought he was getting married? Are you married?" she asks in rapid fire.

"Esme," I say, gaping at her. "What the fack are you talkin' about? Married to who?"

"Mike!" she shouts as if its obvious.

"Mike?" I reply with a matching, incredulous tone. I wrinkle my nose in distaste at the thought. So fucking wrong on so many fucking levels. "Why the flip would I be married to Mike?"

"Maybe because you have a baby together!" she screams, losing all composure.

And then I get it. I look between the bouncing bundle of joy on my lap and the furious woman across the table from me. My mouth pops open in surprise before I abruptly burst into semi-hysterical giggles.

Esme looks at me like I'm an absolute psychopath.

"Holy Krishna," I say when I finally get myself under control. "You thought Robbie was mine?"

"What else was I supposed to think, Bella?" she snaps, scowling at me. Gah, it's the Edward scowl. Oh how I miss him. What I wouldn't give to have him scowling at me right now.

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry. This is Robbie Newton. Son to Jessica and Michael Newton. I am just babysitting for the day," I explain.

"Oh, thank God," she says, letting out a big sigh and leaning against the back of her chair. "I would have hated to be the one to tell Edward."

Yeah, that's the subject I thought we would be discussing. Suddenly, I am beyond exhausted. I feel like the baby shouldn't be so close to this conversation, so I lay out a blanket on the floor and settle him with a few of his favorite toys before joining Esme once more at the table.

"I never cheated on Edward," I murmur, not knowing where to start. "I mean, I pulled a lot of facked up shat, put your son through hell. But I never would do that to him. Never wanted too."

Esme just nods, looking a little stunned that I am sharing so willingly.

"Okay," she replies.

"How is he?" The words burst out of me because even though I know I have zero right to ask, I can't not.

Esme is grimacing again. "I don't know, Bella," she replies with a sigh. "I'm his mom. He puts on a happy face and tells me what I want to hear. Alice is the only one to ever really talks to me. "

"I know I hurt him," I whisper, staring at my hands and feeling hot tears pool in the corner of my eyes.

"Yes, you did." Esme agrees with me coolly. "Not that anyone has really told me anything about my child in the last two years, but I still know my son. What he struggles the most with is not understanding the why."

"To deduce, reason, logic," I reply, realizing again how big of a fuck up my departure was. If I was thinking clearly at all, I would have seen how much leaving in the way I did would drive him insane. "Of course that must drive him crazy."

"Yes," Esme agrees. "All I know is that you disappeared without telling anyone where you were going. You didn't even give him the courtesy of explaining yourself."

This proper and painful chastising is making me cry both because I did something horrible to the person I care about the most in this word, and because I miss him so fucking much.

I am sitting in his childhood home. Talking to his mother. I have not felt this close to him since I left.

Fuck. This means I have made zero progress in the whole getting over him thing. Therapy may be working when talking about my other issues, but certainly not with Edward.

"I know," I reply. It's not like I can defend myself. What I did is undefendable.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" she demands.

"Trying to get better, Esme," I reply.

"Is it working?"

At this I smile. Because it is. I feel different. Not quite happy, but getting there. I am not as angry anymore. I don't hate myself so much. I have almost forgiven Renee. I realize now that the miscarriage was not my fault.

I can't seem to get the hang of living without Edward though.

"Yes," I say, smiling. "I was really facked up for a really long time. And now I'm… learning to let go."

Esme has about a million questions for me after that. She asks all about where I was and who I was with and what I did. I answer as honestly as I can without being totally inappropriate. I hate it, but view the conversation as good practice. Eventually, I'm going to go home and will probably have to answer similarly to those I left.

If they even want to talk to me after what I did.

Esme is very obviously angry at me, rightfully so, but she maintains that courteous, dignity thing that I always found so intimidating. She listens to me, and doesn't judge me on anything except for hurting her son.

Eventually, I become comfortable enough to ask her about her recent travels. Lady has been everywhere, and I am jealous. If I've learned anything recently its that I do love the travel, as long as the company is good and I have a home to come back too.

"My children are going to be shocked to hear that you are in Forks," muses Esme as dusk approaches. "Last I heard, you were gallivanting around Texas."

"Esme," I say, completely freaking for the first time since she ambushed me in the store. "You can't tell them."

"What do you mean?" she asks, looking puzzled. "I have to tell them."

"They probably don't even care where I am at this point," I murmur.

Esme glares at me for a long time. "That has always been your problem, hasn't it? You don't understand how those around you feel about you or how your actions effect them."

"Yeah," I agree, nodding ruefully. "That is a major thing I've been working on. But I get it now for the most part. What I don't understand is how they could still care after I left with no explanation."

"Yes, that was a pretty major fuck up."

I laugh because Esme Cullen just said fuck. "Please, Esme. Just, give me a few months. Don't tell them yet. You know Alice. She'll call or maybe even show up. I just need a few more months before I face all my huge mistakes."

It takes another hour of cajoling, but eventually Esme agrees to keep my secret.

November 30, 2010

"Settled?" I ask, offended by the words coming out of Dr. Dean's pretty pink lips. "I don't want to be settled."

"This is your life now, Bella," she counters. "And you are never going to be happy unless you figure out what you want."

"I've told you a thousand times what I want!" I huff, beyond frustrated with the good doctor at this point. "When I first got here, you made me lay out all my goals, and I have met them! Or am in the progress of meeting them. I've come to grips with the miscarriage and my dad's death. I am working on forgiving Renee. I know I'm not unlovable."

"And Edward?"

I groan and bury my face in my hands. Now we are getting to the crux of my recent frustrations with Charlotte.

"What about Edward?"

"I am just trying to get you to see that your ridiculous plan on getting over him so you can avoid him in Boulder is stupid." Are shrinks allowed to say shit like stupid? I always knew she was a crackpot.

"Stupid?" I demand, really pissed now. "Stupid? It's fucking noble and selfless. I don't want to be tempted to hurt him anymore."

"See, that right there," Dr. Dean says, frowning at me. "That little comment is how I know you haven't made nearly as progress as either of us would like to believe. You still feel unworthy of him."

My retort dies on my tongue when I realize that she is totally right.

"Are you ready to tell me why you left?" she pushes when I don't speak. I get this question at every fucking secession.

"I have fucking told you a fuck ton of times why I fucking left," I reply through a clenched jaw.

She just smiles at me serenely and shakes her head.

"You are the single most infuriating woman I have ever had the displeasure to encounter," I tell her, refraining from repetitively punching the pillow on the lounge next to me.

"I bet it really annoys you that I've helped you so much, huh?" she replies good-naturedly.

I just huff and scowl.

"What do you want, Isabella?" she asks, getting serious again.

"For you to stop fucking calling me Isabella," I snap back.

"Bella," she tried again. "What do you want?"

"To go home. I want to go home to Boulder and not hurt the people that care about me," I venture, trying to maintain my fragile grip on my patients.

"What do you want? What do you really want? If you weren't so scared, what do you want?" she demands, her voice booming and shocking the ever-loving piss out of me. I have never seen the good doc so passionate or not composed before.

"I'm not scared," I insist.

"You," Charlotte states, shaking her head at me again. "Are fucking terrified."

I stare at her for a really long time without really seeing anything, and it dawns on me that she's right. I'm fucking terrified. Of everything. Of moving forward, of staying stagnant. I'm terrified of facing those I left behind, and I'm terrified of staying here, in this comfortable halfway house I've constructed for myself in Forks. But most of all I am just as scared of holding on to Edward as I am of letting him go.

"You left because you were scared," she murmurs as I continue to blink there in shock. "You left because everyone else in your life seemed to leave you. You mom left twice, your Dad died as you were just really getting to know him, your baby left your womb. People left in your life, and you were scared that Edward would leave too. That's really why you left. Wanting to protect him was a factor, but mostly you left Edward before Edward could leave you because you knew you wouldn't survive. Fear prompted your departure more than anything else."

"Holy fuck." Never before had I thought about it that way, but I immediately recognize the truth in her hypothesis. I left Edward before he could leave me. I am starting to doubt whether leaving him was really want was best for him at all. For the last two years, my only solace has been that he is better off without me. But really, who am I to take that decision away from him? Who am I to know what's best? I've fucked up everything so badly.

"But you made a mistake, Bella," she continues when I don't speak. "Do you know what mistake that is?"

"I forgot that he's Edward," I whisper.

"What do you mean?" asks Dr. Dean.

"He's Edward," I say, my voice wavering. "He would never have done that to me. He would never have hurt me like I hurt him. He… he wouldn't have left."

"What do you want, Isabella Marie Swan? What will make you happy, healthy, whole?" Charlotte asks quietly.

"Edward," I burst out finally. His name explodes from my lips, leaving an all encompassing feeling of relief in its place. And I know its true. "I want Edward. I don't want to get over him."

"And there it is," she replies, leaning back in her chair and smiling at me.

I guess this is what some would dub a break through.

December 6, 2010

"You can still change your mind," I say, frowning as I help Tyler unload the boxes in the back of his truck. I purposefully grab the one labeled "clothes" over the many containing books.

"Why the fuck would I do that?" he replies, heaving two huge book boxes into his arms.

"I don't know. I just feel bad. Like you are doing me this huge favor," I reply, following him up the front steps. We dump the boxes in the living room before going to retrieve more.

"I hate to tell you this, Bella," he says, slinging an arm over my shoulders. "But I am totally ripping you off. You are charging ridiculously low rent. Especially once I find myself a roomie. Plus this place comes furnished."

"I guess," I mutter. We continue to unpack in silence. Eventually, we drag all the boxes up to Charlie's room that is completely cleared out of anything but the bed frame and a dresser.

I take a final look at the room, smiling slightly, just a little bit proud of myself for coming so far. A year ago, dealing with all this shit seemed impossible.

"Stop moping," Tyler says when he turns to look at my face. "You are going home. Shouldn't you be thrilled?"

"I think I'm going to puke," I reply.

Tyler laughs heartily, and pulls me downstairs where he deposits me on the couch before moving into the kitchen to get us beers.

"Are you not ready, Bell?" he asks, furrowing his heavy brow.

"No. So fucking totally not ready," I reply. "But that's why I have to go now I think."

"From Charlotte's lips to my ears, huh?" he says with a chuckle. "Have you thought about staying? I mean, you have a life here, Bella. Or at least the beginnings of one."

"I thought about it," I confess, nodding. "And it would be so easy. To just live in this house and work at Newton's and steal Robbie when I'm feeling lonely. But it would be too easy. A fucking cop out. Plus, its not what I want. I could live my whole life knowing I was too much of a coward to go after what I want."

"I get that. You have to face all those demons. Have to plead your case to Edward," Tyler says, smiling sadly. "I'm going to miss you, Bell."

"Aw, Ty-Ty!" I squeal, leaning across the couch to give him a big hug. "I'm going to miss you too, buddy. But you're my tenant now so we'll have to keep in touch. "

"Who am I going to talk to when you leave?" he murmurs as I snuggle into his side.

"I have no fucking clue," I reply. "You're going to have to call me all the time. And come visit."

"Careful, I just might take you up on that," he replies with a chuckle. "Bell, are you crying?"

"No," I say, sniffing somewhat pathetically. I am very obviously crying but feel strange admitting how sad I really am. It seems silly because I want to go home. I need to go home. But somehow in the course of the last year, Forks and the people here have come to mean a lot to me.

So I just sit there next to Tyler as the sun goes down on my last day in Forks. He drinks his beer, and I try not to cry too much. We just sit like that until the Newton's burst through the front door.

"That looks cozy," says Mike, grinning at us before making his way into the kitchen, arms laden with grocery bags.

"Hold this," says Jessica, thrusting Robbie into my lap before following her husband.

"Hey, buddy," I say, cuddling the baby and tearing up again. I'm really going to miss the little guy.

"Be-yah!" he shouts, clapping his little hands against my cheeks and giggling. "Be-yah! Be-yah!"

"Oh, Roberto," I say though my sniffles. "Perhaps I should smuggle you to Boulder in my backpack. Do you think your parents would notice?"

"That's both kidnapping and child abuse!" shouts Jess from the kitchen. "If you don't watch it, I'm going to poison your going away dinner."

An hour later, the five of us are seated around the table, enjoying some sort of delicious chicken thing. We laugh and talk and lament my coming departure. I have very mixed feelings about leaving. I've grown to love these people, and its going to be hard.

"To Bella," Jessica says, raising her glass, "who has made the last year so wonderful. Seriously, I don't think I could have handled being a new mommy without your support. Thank you for being my friend."

Yup, the tears are back.

"And thank you for being the best sales person in the history of Newton's," puts in Mike.

"Thanks for talking to me about the dark days," says Tyler, looking as if he is on the verge of tears himself.

Glasses are clinked, and I hug each of them, telling them how much their friendship has helped me and promising to stay in touch. These people gave me a chance, and I won't soon forget it.

My last night in Forks is the epitome of bittersweet.

The thought of my return to Boulder has nerves bubbling in my stomach, both because I'm terrified and excited.

Soon, I'll see Edward.

When I get scared about the next step in getting better or sad at the prospect of leaving Forks, I think about Edward's face and my recent therapeutic realization. I want him. Need him. In a forever kind of way.

I'm still petrified of the concept, but he is worth it. We are worth the risk. It took me six years and thousands of miles to figure out, but I know without a doubt he is it for me.

The thought of what I might find in Boulder cripples me. My plan may have work. Maybe he moved on. Maybe he is happy without me. But I can't give him up without telling him everything. This is my last shot. And I pray I don't fuck it up.

Edward, here I come.

* * *

**So what did we think of the good doctor? Bella's friendship with the Forksians? How cute was she with baby Roberto? Damn, do I love a boy in a sweater.**


	25. The Nomads

**Hi there!**

**Remember me? I know. It has been forever and a half years since I last posted. I am going to blame finals and a 5 day camping trip through the wilds of Colorado. Happy summer!  
**

**Anyhoo. I'm back now. And here is the next chapter. I hope you like it. Also, I am thinking there are going to be about 3 more chapters total but we'll see. Regardless we are nearing the end now.**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

January 6, 2011

It's quite possibly the most difficult thing I've ever done, telling Bella that I could only be her friend. She was vulnerable, finally letting me all the way in, and right in front me, telling me she wanted me forever.

My brain is so full when I get back to my empty apartment in Denver I fear that I won't be able to handle school in the coming days. Retreating to my bedroom, I slowly sit on my bed, continuing to just think.

And at one point, however briefly, she was pregnant. With our child. And she wanted it. Wanted my baby. I almost had a baby. And although I've always known that I want kids someday, I can't really picture it but I still feel a loss.

If things turned out differently, I would be raising an eighteen month old right now.

Shit.

And then Forks. She really got better in Forks, and I am so happy that she found a little peace. She's forgiven Renee and is letting go. Plus she figured out how she really feels about me, so I can't totally hate her for leaving anymore. Not totally, but still a little bit.

It's strange, but I'm oddly jealous and resentful of her time in Forks and the relationships she established. Maybe I just don't like the thought of men being anywhere near her. Maybe I resent the fact that these strangers helped her heal when I couldn't. But, like most things Bella has shared recently, I have mixed feelings about her time in Washington.

I want to scream at my mother for not telling me she saw Bella last October. That was a pretty shocking revelation, but not something I can handle at this moment.

It's mind-boggling, the vast spectrum of human emotion I've experienced in the last week. The anger, hurt, joy, love, and absolute heart break. And Bella's felt it all, right there with me.

It's a lot to process. And between the drinking and the talking, I'm utterly exhausted.

But we finally talked. It was long over due, and I really acted like an asshole with all that fuck buddy nonsense I pulled after Alice's party. I don't know what the hell I was trying to accomplish with that one, but it was stupid.

Talking to Bella was… cathartic. Especially after the week of wallowing I had, thinking the absolute worst of her. I should have had more faith. Once upon a time, I had faith in her. But everything changed two years ago. Everyone warned me that she would hurt me. And then she left.

That may be the worst part to me. That I no longer trust her. That she ruined that absolute faith I had in her.

But she didn't completely annihilate it. I spent the last week thinking that she destroyed it permanently. I couldn't function, or even survive, thinking that she had ruined us forever.

I feel terrible, for thinking the worst of her in regard to something so serious and important. I'm devastated for Bella and how she must of suffered, going through something like that alone. Really, all things considered, Bella is remarkably normal. Put together. She has had to deal with more shit in her short life than most.

I'm starting to believe her, when she says she's getting better.

Bella answered all my questions thoroughly and honestly. There was no badgering on my part required, and not once did she emotionally shut down, going into bitchy, defensive mode.

I still can't really get my head around the fact that she's been in Forks, my hometown, for the last year. I really should have stayed in touch better with people from high school. Although Bella somehow managed to get my parents to keep their mouths shut, so the chances of some random acquaintance from my youth letting me know were probably pretty slim.

Bella is _friends _Mike Newton and Jessica Stanley. I mean Newton. And Tyler Crowley. Tyler of all people. Alice's first boyfriend Tyler is now besties with my Bella.

I'm coming to terms with all that. I understand now her motivations for leaving, and although I'm still attempting to accept how much she kept from me, there is still a lot in that journal I hate.

But we have time. We don't have to talk about it now. We have time to deal with everything.

She looked so totally devastated when I told her I needed time to process and that I wasn't ready to be in a relationship with her again, but she didn't argue. Bella just nodded solemnly like a brave little solider, facing up to her punishment.

Friends. Were Bella and I ever just friends? Not that I can recall.

Now is no different. I don't see her as a friend. I don't want to. Bella and I both recognize that this isn't permanent. Eventually, we will get to a point where we can be together again. I hope.

But it might take a little while.

I need to heal. I need to process. I need to understand. And most importantly I need to forgive her.

I left her less than an hour ago, and already I miss her desperately.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I smile as I read the text. It's like she knew just what's going through my head.

_Thank you_

Pleased, albeit confused by her text, I type back a reply.

_For what, love?_

I send it before I can rethink referring to her as love.

_For everything. For talking to me. For listening. For being my friend. For being you._

She really is going to make this friends thing real difficult.

_Well, you're welcome. It was certainly enlightening. Goodnight for now. I'll call you after class tomorrow._

For the first time in a long time, I feel… hopeful.

Bella lies face down on my bed with her eyes closed. Her dark hair fans out around her head and she has a slight smile on her face. A sheet is draped strategically over her backside, low enough on her cheeks that the very top of her crack is exposed. Ass cleavage, Emmett calls it. Her back is completely naked, and I watch my fingertips walk down her spine before my thumbs press into the dimples above her ass and my hand finally slips under the sheet.

She sighs and scoots closer to me, flashing a little side boob in the process.

Even then, she was too skinny, and I can make out her ribs even though the footage is hardly HD.

"Open those big brown eyes, love," says my disembodied voice as the shot shifts slightly, zooming in on her face.

On screen Bella crinkles her nose and remains silent. I watch myself pull slightly of a stray lock, and she burrows deeper into the pillow.

"Edwaaaard," she whines, still not looking at me. "It's time for sleeping."

"I must have really worn you out," I say with a chuckle. "You have been sleeping forever."

She just hums and reaches out an arm, searching blindly for me until her hand lands on my knee. When she realizes I'm not lying beside her, she opens one eye.

Filmmaker Edward laughs at Bella's bemused pout, and present day me grins because she really is damn adorable.

"What are you doing!" She squeaks in surprise, sits up slightly, realizes the shift in position has left her left tit completely exposed, squeaks again as a blush blooms on her face, and pulls the comforter over her head. The camera shakes slightly with the reverberation of my deep laughter.

I have watched this video so many times in the last two years the movie itself is unnecessary. I could probably play the whole thing from memory in my head if I tried. But why would I do that when I could watch it – or its more hard-core counterparts – whenever I so choose?

I should have eradicated them from my hard drive and my memory long ago.

I shouldn't watch it. It is terribly unhealthy to watch it. But I can't sleep. My brain won't shut off because Bella has sufficiently packed it. I am on information overload.

This is the only way I can think of to clear my head. School starts tomorrow. I really need to be well rested, but instead I am watching amateur video of the woman who crushed my soul two years ago.

There is something very wrong with me.

Baby. James. Forks. Drugs. Baby. Love. Baby. Sex. Bella. Bella. Bella.

Bella. Bella on screen is still hiding under the down comforter, thrashing about as I poke her and try to pull away the blanket. We both laugh somewhat hysterically, but eventually I give up. She has created a little impenetrable fortress with the blanket.

"Come on, love," I say. The camera angle shifts as I lie down next her, keeping the focus on the mound that is her head. Her dark hair is not all the way covered and it contrasts to the white linens. "At least talk to me. I'm bored."

"Lets go do something, then," comes her muffled reply.

"Can't. It's a rainy Sunday morning," I reply, zooming in on the window at the far side of the room where sheets of rain are viable on the glass.

"What?" she says, sitting up next to me and looking past me to the outdoors. Unfortunately this time she clutches the sheet to her chest so I don't get a peek of anything good.

"See, raining," I say. "We aren't going anywhere today."

"I love the rain," she says, lying down. Her eyes fluctuate between the window and my face, but she purposefully avoids the camera. "It never rains. Seriously, Adonis, when was the last time it rained?"

Her eyes are wide and her face is innocent as she marvels at something as simple as rain. It's something I continue to admire in Bella; her ability to find joy in the simple even when her own life is chaotic.

On camera Bella beams at filmmaker Edward and reaches out to touch some part of his face.

"I love you," murmurs foolish, video Edward. I sigh heavily, finding his tone and desperation somewhat pathetic.

She blushes and sighs. "Come here," she whispers. The camera shifts foreword, but Bella momentarily covers the lens. "Put it away," she demands. Apparently her inner exhibitionist was feeling shy this particularly day.

Again there is a shift, and filmmaker me puts the camera on the bedside table, but neglects to turn it off. In the following shots we are really only visible from our shoulders up.

Bella laughs, rolling me over until I'm on my back beneath her. I tickle her sides and she continues to laugh, doubling over until her forehead touches mine. She screams uncle, and our laughter abates with my tickling, but our heavy breathing does not.

"You and that camera," she whispers. Our foreheads stay together, but it is apparent by our movement that there is a lot more touching going outside the shot. "Who knew Edward Cullen could be so damn kinky?"

I smirk up at her, but she gazes down at me with affection. At the time I thought I saw love in this look, and over the years I was forced to admit I was wrong. But now I'm rethinking everything. Or re-rethinking everything.

She slowly brings her lips to mine, the kiss is slow and steamy. It leaves us both gasping. I watch as we continue to move together. Even now, I can read every look on her face combined with every sound she makes and have a pretty good idea of what exactly is going on south.

Bella tugs on video Edward's hair and calls my name, causing me to shut my MacBook with much more force than necessary. I can't see the rest. I can't hear the rest. If I watch much more there will be no stopping me from rushing back to Boulder and jumping back into bed with Bella.

This would be highly unadvisable, and I truly believe that if we were to be together like that now, we would not last. It would lead to more heartbreak. And I don't think either of us can handle more heartbreak at this point.

What the hell was I thinking? Watching that video is the most supreme form of torture. But at least it ensures my dreams are pleasant when I finally fall asleep.

January 10, 2011

"Are you going to eat that, pixie?" Jake asks moments after the waiter set our plates down. He goes to steal a fry and is immediately smacked.

"Back off, mongrel. I ordered it, didn't I?" Alice snaps, scowling at him.

I'm still a little shocked that they showed up here at all. Well, not so much that they showed up but that they showed up together. Jake is pretty close with the guys, so he knows Alice well but they are certainly not friendly enough to be doing rescue missions together.

They dig in but I don't even touch my salad.

"Eat up, big twin," says Alice. "You have class in an hour, don't you?"

"Yeah," I reply. "But first you have to tell me what the hell you to are doing here. Together?"

They showed up at my apartment twenty minutes ago and dragged me to lunch with really no explanation.

"We both just happened to get on the same bus and have the same destination," explains Jake through a mouthful of veggie burger. I look on in distaste.

"Why were you coming to see me in the middle of the week? I talked to you both yesterday and told you that everything is fine now," I say.

"Yeah, but dude, before that you were on a week long bender and weren't answering your phone or your door. We are concerned!" says Jake.

"Bella was pretty much catatonic," Alice says, continuing to eat. "She went missing for a whole day and I nearly had a heart attack, even if I was furious and confused. I couldn't tell who I was more worried about."

"Yeah, that was a bad day," Jake agrees. "Found her sitting on the steps of Hallett. I think she was freaking people out. And she almost died from the fucking cold."

I really don't want to hear about this. I already feel plenty of guilt for not just listening to her sooner.

"So you talked to her?" I ask. "She told you everything that happened?"

They both nod sagely.

"Yeah, dude," says Jake. "Poor little Isabells. She's had to deal with a shit ton of fuckery. That year was particularly bad. With her dad and that the baby thing. I can't even imagine."

I murmur my agreement. "So you didn't know?" I ask Jake. "I mean, I know she called you while she was gone."

"Yeah, I heard from her a couple times but I had no idea," Jake replies. "At least I get why she left now. I knew there had to be more to the story. Girl would never be away from you willingly."

I'm a little taken aback. I thought I was the only one who was certain of her need for me. Before she left I was so positive that she loved me, but I thought I was the only one. But Jake knew too. Her best friend knew, so I couldn't have been that wrong.

"I'm still a little confused," says Alice. "How did Rosalie know? And why didn't she tell you? God, I could strangle her."

"Rosalie walked in on Bella taking a pregnancy test," I say, stuttering slightly. I have yet to get my head around all this. "I haven't talked to her. I don't know why she didn't tell me."

"Me neither," Alice says. "I am rather pissed at her for all the havoc she wrecked upon our us recently."

"What a fucked up situation," comments Jacob.

"Tell me about it," I agree.

"So what's the deal now?" asks my sister. "You guys talked for like seventeen hours the other day. Are you back together?"

"Ah, no," I reply, feeling awkward as I stab at my salad. "We are working on being friends again."

"When in the hell were you two _friends_?" demands Jake.

"You are totally getting back together!" squeaks Alice.

"No, we aren't—"

"Yes, you are. Not now. But you will soon," big twin insists, patting my hand in assurance.

I grin at her worlds and find myself actually enjoying lunch.

January 15, 2011

"Hey," I say, waving awkwardly and feeling irrationally nervous as I see Bella emerge from the bus station. Despite nightly phone calls, I have not seen her since our big talk. Now that everything is out in the open, our entire relationship seems new. I've lost the comfort. Even when we were first getting to know each other, there was none of this tension and doubt. I hope we can get back the easy motion at some point.

Bella stops a few feet in front of me, smiling coyly up at me from underneath her eyelashes. "Hi," she replies with a similar ridiculous wave. I return the smile, and progress to just stand there shuffling my feet like an idiot.

This shouldn't be so awkward. Everything is out in the open now, and there is absolutely no reason for this to be so strange. But I suppose we have never really been friends before and therefore have absolutely no idea what we're doing.

After we are silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, we both chuckle nervously.

"This is ridiculous," Bella mutters, blushing furiously. I nod in agreement.

"Come here," I reply, opening my arms and taking a step towards her. She lets out a little giggle before throwing her arms around my neck. I lift her slightly off the ground to bring her closer, squeezing her waist.

"I missed you," I whisper in her ear.

"Really?" Bella replies. "That's good because I missed you too."

She kisses my cheek, and I set her down.

"What are we doing today?" she asks, pulling on a pair of sunglasses to ward of the bright winter sun. It's unseasonably warm, and all she wears is a grey long sleeve v-neck that clings to every curve.

"Whatever you want," I reply. "Tonight I do have studying to do, but today I'm all yours."

"Excellent," she says, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the heart of the city. "Well, I want to go to the art museum. I here King Tut is chillin' there these days. And after that we can get you some spicy ethnic food. My treat."

Like I would let her pay for anything, but I will tackle that argument when we get to it.

All awkward dissipates as we stroll the city hand in hand, meandering towards the museum. I'm not sure if friends are supposed to hold hands, but in this moment I don't particularly care. For the first time, I really just focus on the now with Bella. I don't dwell on the past. I live in the moment and enjoy it.

January 29, 2011

"Look at you," I say, grinning at Bella in the bright Colorado morning sun as we jog through a swanky neighborhood just north of the house on Goss. "You seem to have no problem keeping up with me. So either you've gotten better or I've gotten worse."

"And look at you," she replies, huffing slightly. "Up before noon."

My laughing makes it difficult for me to stay with her pace for a moment, but I quickly compose myself and fall in stride at her side again.

"I'm a motherfuckin' track star these days," she says. "Since I quit smoking."

"Quit smoking?" I ask, raising an eyebrow in skepticism.

"I did quit!" she defends, her stride now faltering slightly as she huffs with indignation. "I only smoke when I'm really, really stressed."

"You're been smoking around me a lot," I mutter, pushing our pace again because I feel so guilty.

"Well, there was a couple really stressful weeks there if you recall," I reply. "But it could have been worse. You really are one understanding guy."

I chuckle with self-deprecation. "Bella, I refused to talk to you but slept with you anyway. It was the pinnacle of assholedom, and I apologize profusely."

"Dude, that is what I did you years with you so it was all deserved. You gave me a taste of my own medicine, and it was what you needed to do. So don't sweat it," she replies, stunning me with her smile.

I return her grin, pleased that we have the ease between us back. But I can't help but be concerned.

A storm is brewing. We are in the eye now, but eventually we are going to have to discuss her time away. We are going to have to discuss James. I hope we can maintain this ease when we finally do.

February 5, 2011

"So…" Bella says in a tone so overly cautious, I glance up from my case study to look at her. "Something… silly happened to me."

We sit together at The Laughing Goat, drinking free coffee. She scribbles away in her journal while I study BioChem. I have so much work to do, and told her I would have to spend the majority of the weakened studying but Bella says she just likes being around me. We don't have to do anything at all.

"Really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her in confusion. Her nervousness is absolutely adorable, and I want to kiss her. I spend most of the time I'm with her trying to not kiss her. For the most part I am mostly successful. Instead, I lean across the table and use my thumb to remove her lip from her teeth.

"Yeah. So I've told you about this regular customer, John?"

"_John_?" I hiss. Bella has indeed told me about fucking John. Nice guy. Likes to talk books with her while she baristas. Obviously, I hate him.

"Yeah. John. Well, yesterday he was in the shop as I was getting off and we started talking and we ended up walking to the library. I got some books. You, know, library things." She is rambling. That means she is really nervous. I don't want her to be nervous because it is making me nervous. "I thought we were just hanging out. Like, you know, buddies. But then as we were leaving…"

My pencil snaps in half with the strength of my grip. "What, Isabella?" I demand in a low voice.

"Well," she says, gulping audibly. "He may or may not have… you know."

"No I don't!" I yell, completely losing it at the thought of someone else touching Bella. Several heads turn in our direction, and I remind myself to behave in Bella's place of work. "I don't know anything!" I whisper yell instead.

"Edward, clam down. He tried to kiss me, that's it!" she assures me, chuckling slightly at the sight of me completely losing my shit.

"That's… that's it? That's kinda a fucking lot, don't you think?" I say with a low hiss, glowering at her. How the fuck could she be doing this to me? I thought we were making progress. What the fuck is she trying to prove, telling me this shit? That she can have whoever she wants? That she doesn't need me? Because we have all always known that.

I remember that we have yet to talk about James or any aspects of her time away besides the baby. It's something we need to discuss, but we are both avoiding the subject. Things have been so great in the last month neither of us wants to disturb the peace. But if Bella thinks it's kosher for her to be kissing random dudes, than perhaps we should have had this conversation a long time ago.

"Edward, notice I said _tried_," she continues, rolling her eyes at me. "He _tried_ to kiss me. And I very awkwardly leapt away from him, squeaking like your sister."

"So you didn't let him kiss you?" I ask, still scowling. I've seen her let people kiss her before, and I hated it.

"No, of course not," she says, scoffing. "But he did have some very good questions for me after I awkwardly rejected him."

"Such as?"

"Well, he asked if I was seeing anyone," she says slowly.

"And you answered?" I prompt.

"Not technically. I told him I was not technically seeing anyone, but that I'm not interested in dating anyone either," she says.

"Not interested in anyone, huh?" I tease, earning myself a punch in the arm.

"Shut up," she says, scowling now. "You know very well there is only one person I'm interested but he is just a friend."

"You know you're not allowed to date anyone, right?" I ask, poking my finger in her face and sounding like a schoolteacher. "Or hook up or anything like that."

"Allowed!" she huffs, smacking my hand away as she glares. "Allowed? No one has told me what I'm _allowed_ to do since I was a fucking ten years old."

"Don't care. I'm telling you now. You are not allowed to date anyone else. Am I clear?" I demand.

"Are… Am… I... CLEAR!" She is so obviously flustered and sputters at me in her shock. I like surprising her.

"Yeah. You're not allowed. Don't do it." I'm fully prepared to put up with some more arguments and some punching, but instead she takes a large breath before observing me thoughtfully.

"You don't want me to date anyone else," she states.

"No, of course not," I reply.

"But that's a little strange, being as we are just friends right?" she presses.

"For now," I mutter, bending my head back to my books again.

After a few minutes Bella still hasn't responded, so I glance back up at her, wary. I'm pleased to see her grinning at me. I can't help but grin back, because we are making progress. I can actively feel us healing.

"You're not allowed either," she says, still smiling as she goes back to scribbling in her journal.

"Pardon?" I ask, looking at her in confusion.

"You're not allowed to date anyone else either. If I'm not allowed, than you're not allowed. Not that I want to see anyone, but still. You can't go dating anyone or I will go completely crazy," she says.

"Okay," I agree.

"You're fuckin' hot when you're bossy," she mutters with a slight chuckle, causing me to flush. I want to mount her on this very public tabletop.

But I don't.

February 18, 2011

BPOV

"You're awfully smiley today, young lady," Alice says, breezing into the kitchen just as I set a plate full of pancakes on the table in front of her usual seat. Late breakfast has become a routine for the two of us. My shift at the Goat doesn't usually start until eleven, and Alice sleeps the whole morning away before heading to her studio around the time I leave. We dine together before walking downtown to work.

It's lovely. I didn't realized how much I missed Alice until I got back.

"Am I? I ask, feigning ignorance as I take the seat across from her.

"Any reason in particular?" she asks, trying not to laugh at me.

I smile into my coffee, and ignore the pixie. We both know the reason I'm in such a damn good mood.

"You love struck little hussy," Alice says, giggling at me for real now. "You're excited because little twin is coming up this weekend."

I blush and giggle and beam, generally acting like a smitten fool.

"You're different," Alice says abruptly after several minutes of silence and chewing.

"Thanks," I reply, grinning again.

"I like it," she continues.

"Me too," I agree.

"I have a very good feeling about you and Edward." Again, I'm grinning like a loon because Alice's feelings have a way of coming true.

We go back to eating in silence, but this time I'm the one who interrupts the peace. "Alice, you're married."

"Yeah," she says with a snort. "Last time I checked. Two and a half years, baby."

"And you happy?"

"Yes," Alice replies immediately. "It's not perfect, but I am so ridiculously in love with that man."

"I've always wondered why you didn't kick us all out after graduation," I say. "Don't you want your space to be all married at shit?"

"Oh, yeah," Alice says after finishing off the scrambled eggs I lovingly prepared her. "But Jasper and I decided before we got married to give life after a college a go the real way."

"Real way?" I ask, raising my eyebrow in confusion.

"Real as in on our own. We haven't touched either of our trust funds, and Boulder is a fucking expensive town to live in," Alice explains. "Emmett doesn't want to get a place of their own until Rose agrees to marry him, so who knows how long they will be here."

"And now you've got me," I say, nodding in understanding.

Alice snorts. "Not for long."

"What?" I ask. She has lost me again.

"There is no way you are going to stay in Boulder long," she says, looking at me like her words are obvious. I am immediately hurt, but decide to go with anger instead because I'm still not very good at showing weakness. Dr. Jones, my new shrink that is much nicer than dearest Charlotte, says its something I need to work on.

"What the fuck, Alice?" I yell, banging a fist on the table in my anger. Dishes clatter, and Alice stares at me in shock, but I'm on a roll. "You've been totally supportive and loving since I got back! Was all that 'Oh, I'm so glad you're home,' defending me to Rose crap just an act? I mean, what the fuck. I'm not going any fucking where! And I pretty tired of being treated like a flight risk!"

I'm seething and breathing heavily by the end of my spiel.

"Bella," Alice snaps, eyes narrowed at me. "I simply meant that you are going to get pretty tired of being thirty miles from Edward pretty quick. Stop being such a drama queen."

"Oh, sorry" I mutter, blushing and feeling like an idiot. "And Edward and I are just friends at the moment. I mean, well, not just friends. But technically just friends."

"For now," she says, echoing her brother's words and rising from the table. She clears the dishes and leaves me feeling even happier than when I woke up this morning.

Alice finishes the dishes and disappears upstairs to get ready for her day in the studio. I find Waldo, curled up in his favorite spot behind the family room couch, right smack on top of a heating vent. He's cranky for a moment as I pull him out, but eventually he purrs as I sit on the couch and settle him on my lap.

"There's Waldo," I coo a moment before the doorbell rings. This is a very odd because no one ever rings the doorbell. Ever. People just stroll on in, typically.

I hear Alice's quick footsteps thudding on the stairs and her bellowed, "I've got it!" Waldo's eyes go even more cross-eyed as I scratch his favorite spot behind his ear.

"Bella," Alice yells from the front door "You have a visitor!"

Puzzled, I pick up a purring Waldo and make my way to my guest. It's strange. I can tell by the tone of Alice's voice that she doesn't know the stranger at the door, nor is she too pleased by the mystery visitor. Alice and I have all the same friends, know all the same people. Who the fuck could possibly be at the door?

I emerge from the hall to see Alice glaring at a hippie girl with a crop of flaming, curly hair.

"Maggie?" I ask in disbelief, my mouth falling open in astonishment. I haven't seen my friend in over year, and she wasn't too pleased about my hasty departure. She turns at the sound of my voice, squeals, and launching herself at me. I laugh in shock as she hugs the shit out of me. Poor Waldo gets caught in the middle of our reunion, and hisses in distaste.

"Oh my good God," she exclaims, clutching her bosom dramatically. I take in her gauzy shirt, flowing skirts, and hemp accessories. "Is this the legendary Waldo? Lord, you weren't lyin' when you said he was a touch cross-eyed. Didn't believe you till now. This house is lovely, just as you described it. Though I did imagine Alice here being a bit taller."

I grimace as Alice huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Yes, Bella," Ali snaps. "I was just meeting your 'very best friend on the planet'."

"Right. Yes. This is Maggie," I stutter, trying to defuse the awkward situation. "We met in, uh... Florida I guess. And Mags, this is Alice…"

"Bella's very best friend in the _universe_." Alice shakes Maggie's hand much harder than necessary. "Anyway, I'm going to work. See you later, Bells."

"What are you doing here, Maggie?" I ask, deciding to ignore all the fucking awkward happening all over the place. "Where's Liam?"

"Fiddlin' 'bout with the van," she explains dismissively. "We settled in San Fran for awhile. Got bored, you know how it goes. Went up to Forks, 'bout a month ago. Lookin' for you. Imagine our delight when we heard you went home to Colorado."

"Yeah, you must have just missed me. I've only been home for a couple months."

Maggie throws her arms around me again, and I let Waldo wiggle away as I return her hug. "You look ravishin', Isabella. So happy," she whispers in my ear.

"Workin' on it," I reply. "Want to walk me to work?"

Although my last memory of Maggie is not exactly pleasant, and I was highly disappointed in her at the time, that one bad moment doesn't negate the many good memories. I owe her a lot. Not only was it her suggestion that inspired me to seek professional help, but she also showed me what I absolutely do not want in life. Maggie and Renee are the same breed, and my time being a nomad taught me once and for all that I'm not like them.

So I'm not exactly overjoyed to see my old friend, but I don't really mind. I feel like I owe her something still.

"I suppose," Maggie says with a sigh. "But what I'd really like to do is meet this lad of yours."

"He's not mine," I reply. "We're still working everything out."

"No more lies?" she asks, looking stern.

"No more lies," I reply with a smile. "Walkin' now, Mags."

Rosalie walks in to the coffee shop right as I remove my apron to take my dinner break.

For a moment I consider leaping behind a counter to hide from her. She must have wandered in to the wrong coffee shop and forgotten I work here. We haven't talked in the month and a half since she wrongly disclosed my pregnancy story in the worst possible way.

Bitch.

And even though we live together and shit we manage to do a pretty damn good job avoiding each other. Her hours are much more regular than mine, so it's not hard to do.

"Bella," Rosalie says, demanding my attention and marching straight up to me. Apparently she does indeed have the right coffee shop.

"Sup," I reply with a head nod.

"When do you have a break?" she asks, glancing at her watch and stomping her high heel clad foot. She obviously stopped in on her way home from work if her shockingly professional fucking wardrobe is any indication.

Sometimes, I don't think I even know Rose at all anymore.

High waist pencil skirt, silky looking grey blouse, monster pumps. Nothing is recognizable of the hemp wearin', pot smokin', hippie chick I used to pal around with. Well, except her extreme bitchiness.

"Uh now?" I raise my eyebrow at her in confusion. What the fuck is her deal? She is acting like the last two years didn't happen. Like I didn't abandon her without an explanation and she didn't cause Edward unnecessary pain with her little New Year's announcement.

"Good." She turns abruptly on her heel, marching to the back of the shop and taking a seat at a table in the corner.

I blink at her in surprise. I suppose this means I should follow her.

A little dumbfounded and not wanting to deal with this today, I shuffle my feat towards her, plopping heavily in the seat across from her and sipping morosely on my English tea steamer.

She just stares at me and I shift uncomfortably under her gaze, continuing to fiddle with my mug just to have something to occupy my hands.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask finally. I can't take the silence and the staring anymore.

Rose bounces her knee under the table and bites her thumbnail.

Ah, the unflappable Ms. Hale is flapped. I get an odd sense of joy out of her nerves and discomfort.

We go back to silence, and I plot my escape.

I start to rise, but Rose gives me the death glare and waves her hand in my general fucking direction. With a sigh I sit back down.

"Just give me a minute," she snaps, yanking her long, glorious hair into a messy bun at the top of her head. Now she is starting to look a wee bit like her old self.

"Dude, I gots shit to deal with," I say, completely exasperated by this entire situation and all the crap I've already had to deal with today. The appearance of Maggie. The tension with Alice. Cranky customer after cranky customer.

At least Edward will be here tonight.

"Fine," she says with a huff. "I came here to talk to you."

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

"Must you make this so difficult?" she asks through clenched teeth.

"Must you waste my only break of my shift?" I snap back.

Rose lets out a frustrated growl and goes back to gnawing on her nail.

"Just say what you came here to say," I suggest.

She mumbles something under her breath, and I grin when I realize she is muttering a long over do apology.

I'm gonna have to fuck with her.

"What was that, Rosie?" I say, cupping my hand around my ear.

"I'm sorry," she whispers again, scowling at me.

"Pardon?" I ask, leaning closer and grinning manically.

"I'm sorry." The words are clear now, even if they are spoken through a clenched jaw and a fierce scowl.

"Didn't quite get that," I reply, pleased when sparks practically fly out of her ears.

"I'M FUCKING SORRY!" she bursts out, causing the heads of patrons to snap towards us and me to laugh loudly.

"What?" I ask again through my belly laugh, just to be completely ridiculous.

Rosalie just growls.

I continue to chuckle until she calms down to speak again.

"Bella," she says, taking a deep breath. "I am sorry for getting drunk and falsely accusing you something horrible and causing Edward to freak out and drink himself silly for a week. Also I am sorry that I didn't do anything to fix it in the aftermath and choosing to hide in shame instead. And for it taking me so long to set aside my pride and apologize."

"Wow," I say, genuinely surprised. Rose is just like I was in a lot of ways. The show no weakness, never open up, apologizes are for sissies type. Apparently I'm not the only one who has done some serious changin' recently.

"I know," she replies, exhaling and sitting back against the back of her chair as if she is suddenly exhausted.

"Dude, that was so many I'm sorrys," I say, still gaping at her in shock.

"I know," she says, her whole body shuddering in angst at the unpleasant memory of having to say sorry.

I pat her back as she calms down. "You okay there, champ? That must have been tough."

"Indeed," she hisses at me as she regains her composure.

"You mean it?" I ask.

"Yup," she replies, looking much more comfortable now that she is done with the apologies.

"Thanks," I reply, smiling. It really sucks, not talking to Rosalie. She is a complete raving bitch most of the time, but I get her. Usually. She is my Rosie, and I was never too good at staying mad at her.

"Your welcome." Her voice is hard again and she crosses her arms over her chest.

"You know you are going to have to do this whole apology thing again with Edward, right?" I ask, making sure she does the right thing.

Without her interference Edward would have been spared all that pain and the drinking binge. He would have known the truth from the get go. Although, to be fair, Edward was in hard core denial mode and who knows how long it would have actually taken me to get up the courage to force him to listen.

"Yeah," she says with a sigh. "I know."

Rosalie did fuck up major. But the whole situation isn't her fault. It's mine.

"I'm sorry too," I tell her. Now I'm the one who's all uncomfortable. "For just leaving and not calling and shit. We we're just getting back to where we were before the whole Jake debacle."

"Bitch, sleeping with my boyfriend," she hisses, eyes narrowed at me in hate.

I glare back for a moment before we both burst into semi hysterical giggles.

"You are never going to admit you were wrong about that one, huh?" I ask, chuckling and shaking my head at her.

"I'm not wrong," she says, giggling as well. "I can't believe I'm going to admit this, but I missed you, Bells."

"Same, Rosie-Posie. Same."

I am still thinking about the truce with Rose an hour later when a velvet voice interrupts my behind-the-cash-register musings.

"I'll have a medium triple shot Americano for here, ma'am."

With an embarrassingly girly squeal, I run around the counter and wrap my arms around his neck. He lifts me off the ground, chuckling at my enthusiasm.

"You know, sometimes this new, bright, happy to see me Bella really freaks me out," he says when he sets me down, and I return to my station at the cash register. My co-workers look at me like I've sprouted extra limbs.

"Would you prefer me to go back to dark and sullen?" I ask, smirking as I cue up his complimentary drink.

"Hell no," he scoffs, furrowing his brow and looking adorable. "I like you happy. I'm just not use to it yet."

"But you plan to be in the future?" I inquire hopefully.

"Of course, Isabella," he assures me, giving me that panty-dropping grin. I like that he is always so quick to sooth my fears about where we are headed relationship wise.

"And I'm only bright and happy with you," I assure him. "Everyone else still has to put up with dark and sullen Bella."

"I'm perfectly okay with that."

"You're early," I pout glancing behind Edward, relieved to see no customers entering the shop. "I don't get off for another two hours."

"I know. I thought I would get a drink and do some studying," he replies. "Free up more time to spend with you this weekend."

"Excellent."

When I get off at eight, Edward walks me home. He talks about his last week at school. I talk about my week at work. He only got one question wrong on a biochemistry test, and I cooked dinner for Phil and his girlfriend Nina. At some point, a biker gets a little too close to me, and Edward pulls me to his side to get me out of harms way. He keeps his arm around my shoulder the rest of the way home.

The night is unseasonably warm and we stroll home, enjoying the stars and each other.

Edward is laughing at my reenactment of Jasper and Emmett's most recent kitchen brawl as we approach the house. He abruptly stops when he sees the people seated on the front steps.

"Hello," he says, sounding wary. I tear my gaze away from Edward's stunning face to see Maggie and Liam passing a pipe back and forth.

Shit. In my Edward induced fog and after my talk with Rose, I completely forgot the appearance of my nomad friends. Maggie this morning seemed to bring up a whole bunch of issues with Alice we have yet to discuss. I don't know how Edward will take it. He read my journal. He is definitely not happy about all the drugs, or Maggie's view that James is the guy for me.

I'm a fucking moron, forgetting to warn him.

"Well, 'ello there!" Maggie shouts when we approach. "Lordy, Liam. Look at 'em. Did you know a man could be that good lookin'?"

Liam, as is the usual, doesn't speak. He just nods and goes back to his weed.

"I think you seriously down played the hotness, Isa," Maggie scolds.

"I told you he was a Greek god," I mutter, grabbing Edward's hand to keep it from running through his hair for the hundredth time since we happened upon the Irish couple.

"Uh, Bella?" Edward asks, looking horribly lost and adorable at the same time.

"Oh, right," I say. "Sorry. Edward, sweetheart, this is Maggie and Liam. I told you about them, remember?"

"Indeed," he replies, moving away to shake Maggie's hand and then Liam's. His movements are stiff and formal while his face remains stoic. To most people, he would seem perfectly impassive, but he can't hide from me. I know he's upset. "Pleasure to meet you both."

My nomad friends look a little bemused at his detached politeness and his somewhat nerdy button up, sweater vest combo visible from beneath his grey pea coat.

"We've just heard all 'bout you from our Isa here," Maggie gushes.

"Likewise," Edward murmurs. I wrap my arms around his waist and try to make him feel better.

"You're not quite like I imagined," Maggie continues. "Little more on the straight and narrow, am I right, Liam?"

"That's what makes the sex so good," I explain, grinning because I succeed in making Edward blush. He is so pretty when he blushes. He shakes his head at me as Maggie laughs.

"We have so much catchin' up to do, little Isa," croons Maggie, standing from her seat on the steps and pulling Liam up with her. "Liam, don't be rude. Offer them the spliff. You were right, Isa. Really good shit here, yeah?"

Edward looks on in disapproval, and I shake my head. "Naw, I don't do all that anymore."

"Pardon?" asks Maggie, blinking at me in confusion. "Don't do what?"

"You know," I reply with a shrug. "Drugs and shit."

"Drugs and shit?" Maggie repeats slowly, still not getting it.

I laugh and pat her shoulder.

"My, my," she muses as if she isn't totally buying what I'm telling her. "How you've changed in the last year or so. You still drink? Don't you?" Now Maggie looks downright horrified.

"On occasion," I reply.

"Exc'lent, you must join us. We're meetin' James downtown for drinks at somewhere called the, what was it, Liam? Ah, the Walrus something or other," she says.

Immediately, I look to Edward in worry. James is still a very touchy subject that we have yet to discuss in detail. Until now, we've been doing a damn good job forgetting the guy even exists.

I am totally unsurprised to see the lethally angry look on my boy's face. Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, hands balled into fists at his sides. He mutters a low "excuse me" before stalking up the stairs, slamming the front door, and disappearing into the house.

I sigh heavily and scowl at Maggie.

"Was it something I said?" The look on her face is far too innocent. She did that on purpose, the little bitch.

"Really, Maggie? Fucking really? Why did you have to bring up James?" I demand, stomping my foot and throwing a bit of a tantrum.

"Do what?"

"Don't you blink those big eyes at me," I snap, jabbing my finger in my face. "You purposefully upset him."

"Well, someone's awfully sensitive. Plus, got rid of the wet noodle, didn't I?" she says. I want to slap the grin off her face, but somehow I manage to refrain.

"I don't want to get rid of him," I say, seething. "And he's no fucking wet noodle!"

"Don't be daft, Isa," Maggie dismisses. "Now the real fun can begin. Come on then, lets go meet James."

"No!" I say, horrified. "Fuck no."

"Why not? Don't you want to catch up with the whole gang back together?" Maggie looks shocked by my reluctance.

"No," I repeat. She looks hurt but I can't find it in me to care. "That's not my life anymore."

"But we had so much fun," she whines. "Did you have fun with us?"

"I guess," I reply, shrug. For me, the moments of fun were few and far between. "But that was all a big distraction. I was aimless and all the time I knew something was missing. That man that you just pissed off? He is my heart."

"Don't be so dramatic," Maggie says with a scoff. "How can he possibly even know you? When he gets all uppity about a little pot."

I really, really want to scream at her that she is the one that doesn't know me. The way she is talking like she has seen my soul makes me want to drag her by the hair to the van, shove her in it, and demand that she drive away forever.

But I'm trying to be an adult, so I refrain.

"Listen, Maggie," I say, quickly losing patience. "It's good to see you, but I'm not going to party with you. I want to be with Edward."

"But you can see him all the time. We're only in town for a bit. Didn't you miss us?" she asks, glaring at me now.

Nope. Not at all, actually.

"Not like I missed Edward," I reply quietly. She looks like she can't decide if she is angry or hurt, so I give her a hug. "I do want to catch up with you, Mags. Just not tonight. And not with James."

I send them on their way, and set off in search for Edward. I find him sitting on the edge of his (my) bed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut.

"So what did you want to do tonight?" I ask when I enter the room, trying to remain casual.

"Oh, so you're not planning on meeting dearest James at the Walrus with your best friends Maggie and Liam, the druggies?" he snaps, scowling at me.

"Edward," I say through a sigh. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Seriously, it's fine. You can go," he says, sounding anything but fine. "The Walrus is the biggest shit hole in Boulder, but whatever. Have fun."

"Don't get all passive aggressive on me."

"I'm not," he insists.

"Baby," I say, sitting next to him on the bed. "If I wanted to be there with those people, I would be. Shit, I would still be living out of the back of that bus. But I was miserable with them, remember?"

He just shrugs off the comforting hand I place on his shoulder and continues to scowl.

"Why didn't you tell me they were here?" he asks after we sit in silence for a few minutes.

"I forgot," I tell him honestly. "They showed up right before I went to work, and I just spaced it. I only have room in my head for you when you're in the area."

He smiles despite himself before rearranging his face back into a glare.

"Plus, this thing happened with Rose today. She actually apologized and I think we may be friends again. You should probably expect an apology soon. Although I don't know if she'll actually be able to get the words out. She may have used up all her sorrys on me. It was pretty funny actually. She—"

"Isabella," he says, interrupting me. "You're babbling."

"We've never really talked about any of it," I burst out, finally saying what I really want to say and lifting my hand tentatively to run it through his hair. "You read about it, but we never really talked about it."

"You have more to say?" he asks.

"I just never really explained," I reply, pleased that he's let me touch him. "I didn't _plan_ to leave you, didn't think I could. It was a stupid, spur of the moment decision that seemed necessary at the time. And it's not like I choose James. He happened upon me at my lowest moment, and I used him as a means to escape myself. It was a terrible decision, Edward. And I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you. You, I chose. You, I continue to choose."

I know I've said this before, but it doesn't seem like he is totally getting it so I'll just have to keep repeating myself till he believes me.

Turning to look at me, he stares at me for a long moment before attacking my mouth with his. I squeak in surprise because we're friends now and we certainly don't do this, as he pushes me back against the mattresses. The intensity, passion, and violent need in his kiss has my breath hitching. The shivers consume my skin as I close my eyes and meet his fervor.

It's been a really long time, more than a month since he found out the truth about everything and we (ahem, he) decided to slow down, to approach our relationship like adults. We've done a damn fine job thus far. When we visit each other, we are affectionate but don't even share a bed. It is all very safe, or at least it was until this point.

This kiss is fucking dangerous.

I groan when his mouth moves to my neck, lingering on all the sensitive spots he knows I like. His fingers make quick work of the buttons on my flannel shirt, while mine tangle in his hair. Edward's lips continue to move down, down, down, but when he gets to the button of my jeans, I somehow find the strength to be rational.

"Edward, shit," I manage with in a low, breathy voice. "We talked about not doing this, remember?"

That's all I got. Ball's in his court now. If he's down, then I am so totally fucking down. Downtown Bobby Brown down.

With a frustrated growl, he lets his head rest against my stomach. "I hate it when you're right," he grumbles, breath tickling my naval and causing me to shake a little.

"Fuck, so do I," I agree, still panting slightly.

We lay in silence as out heart rates settle and we get a hold of our lust. Eventually, Edward crawls up the bed to lie on his side next to me. With a gentle tug on my arm, I roll to face him.

"I just acted like an ass, didn't I?" he inquires. I smile and kiss his nose.

"A little. Though it was very hot," I reply, eyes fluttering closed when he reaches out to trace the planes of my face with his fingertips.

"I don't like Maggie much," he murmurs, moving from my face to re-button my shirt. Unfortunately.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to agree with you on that one. She was what I needed at the time, and she did convince me to try the whole therapy thing, but she didn't like it when actually took steps to get better."

"What a bitch," Edward says, and I laugh loudly.

"I think she had this juvenile vision of the four of us traveling together for years before settling down somewhere. She's lonely with Liam," I explain.

"Is that what it was like then?" he asks, somehow managing to stay calm. "Like two couples?"

"Naw," I assure him. "James was barely my friend. There was never anything romantic between us. But he wasn't awful to me, Edward. And he's not a totally terrible person. Just mostly terrible."

These words prove too much for Edward, because he is scowling again and sitting up, putting unwanted distance between us.

"You still haven't forgiven me for any of it," I say, staring at the lines of his back as he shuffles to rest his legs off the side of the bed. "Have you?"

He doesn't reply but his silence is telling.

"That's okay," I continue, knowing that he's listening. "I don't deserve your forgiveness yet. I did horrible, selfish things to you, and I understand why you can't forgive me yet. Or trust me, for that matter. I can tell that every time you see me, you're a little surprised. Like you thought I was going to suddenly take off."

His shoulders sag, but still he says nothing. I move, positioning myself behind him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lay my head on his back and rest my legs outside his. His butt is nestled against my crotch, and I resist the urge to grind into him.

Krishna, I want to fuck him so terribly much.

"And I'm willing to do the leg work to change that," I say, squeezing him tight. I feel nauseous at what I'm about to say. "I'm willing to devote months, years, all the time you need to earning your trust and your forgiveness, but I have to know. Do you think you can do it?"

"What do you mean?" he replies, answering my question with a question.

"Do you think that you can ever forgive me? Or is all this just going to lead to more heartbreak?" The words tumble out of my mouth, and I shut my eyes. I'm so scared he'll say no. "Because I if you can't… Well, if you don't think you can forgive me, than this is all just a waste of time. This is just going to make it that much harder to move on. For both of us. But if there is any chance at all than I am more than willing to take things slow. If there is even a glimmer of a hope of a chance that you will someday forgive me than I am willing to fight for it."

He grabs my arm, pulling me into his lap and holding me close. With a finger under my chin, he tilts my face to his, and I force my eyes open.

"Yes, Isabella," he says, reassuring me. "We'll get there. I'll get there."

I am so relieved to hear this, I kiss him again without giving much thought to the consequences.

We combust.

The environment is still full of tension from Edward's lingering anger about my time with the nomads, our earlier little make out session, and my terror of the prospect of losing him before I really get him back. All this manifests itself in a fucking explosion of lust, and we attack each other; hips grinding, lips clashing, teeth nibbling, tongues probing and hands searching.

It's intense, borderline violent, and once again our combined need spirals out of control.

Not satisfied with the contact in our position with me on his lap, Edward basically throws me back onto the bed. He immediately lays his body down on mind, pushing me into the mattress. Pelvises move in time with each other, setting a punishing pace that isn't fucking enough because we are still clothed. This serious bit of dry humping continues as Edward moves his mouth to my neck and then my chest. I groan in pleasure, using my hands on his ass to pull him tightly against me. For a moment, I think I might come from this alone. The feel of him through our layers of clothing is driving me crazy.

Face between my tits, he utters my name with the reverence of a prayer.

It fucking terrifies me.

There is a reason we decided to take things slow this time. We need time to get used to each other again. There is still so much that we haven't discussed yet. I am scared that doing what we are about to do will rob us of the chance to build a strong foundation. This is important to Edward, and I can't ruin it because I'm horny.

Somehow I manage the strength to once again in less than fucking twenty minutes to halt the action my body fucking demands.

"Stop," I say breathlessly, pushing at his shoulder weakly. My feeble protest is ignored, and Edward keeps grinding into me. His hips move circularly, hitting a particularly throbbing spot several times. My eyes flutter closed and for a moment I forget what my mission is.

"Edward," I say, louder and surer this time. I force my traitor body to lie flat on the bed and stop responding to him. It's almost fucking impossible. "You have to stop."

Again, I'm ignored.

Desperate and knowing that if this goes on any longer and I get any closer to orgasm, I won't be able to summon the strength to stop. And it seems important that we stop.

So I get a little drastic and push him off me with enough force to send him to the floor. He lands with a thud and a grunt, but does not emerge from the side of the bed for a long time.

As he takes a moment on the floor to collect himself, I attempt to do the same. My body is screaming in protest. I was so fucking close. How could I do that? I'm a little impressed with myself, but my body is pissed.

I bet it would take less than two fucking minutes for me to slip my hands in my panties and relieve the situation myself.

That is a terrible thought to be having with Edward so close. I'm not safe yet.

My erratic breathing and need has not abated when his head pops up from the side of the bed. Still, he doesn't speak as he stares at me with a combination of lust, irritation, and resignation.

"I gotta go," I say in a rush, shuffling back as far as I can from Edward. I sit on my hands to keep myself from touching him again. I want nothing more than to start back up right the fuck where we left off.

"Go where?" he asks, his breath still labored. "This is your room."

"Right." Sometimes I still forget that this indeed is my room.

"I should probably be the one to go," he says. We stare at each other for another moment. He obviously doesn't want to go anymore than I want him too, but I don't see another option. I'm on the verge of complete incineration, and if he lingers much longer I won't be able to keep it together. I want him, so badly the distance between us physically hurts me.

"Yeah. Probably. Definitely. Go." My speech is disjointed as my hands fists in the sheets below me and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.

Seriously. So fucking close.

I hear Edward shuffle and feel the shift in the mattress, indicating that he used it to help him stand. That means he is on his way out. Which is good. In theory. I feel no relief at his departure.

"I think a shower is in order," he mutters. The distress in his voice prompts me to open one eye and peek at him. His face is scrunched up like something unpleasant resides under his nose, while his hand tugs at his hair.

The visual of Edward naked and wet is not helping, and I fail to contain the little whimper in my throat. "Get the fuck out!" I demand.

"A long, long shower," he amends, basically sprinting to the door. I punch a pillow, and Edward stops with his hand on the doorknob. "You know what I mean, right?"

Gah. Edward naked and wet and thinking about me as he touches himself.

"Of course I know what you mean, you moron," I say, groaning and basically ripping my sheets off the mattress in my distress. He exits the room only to reenter a moment latter. "Seriously, Edward. You're fucking killing me here."

"Do you think you'll take a shower too?" he asks, looking mischievous now with his smirking and his eyebrow wagging and his general sexiness. That cocksucker.

"Edward…" I say in warning. This is totally unfair. He is the one that has imposed this sex embargo, and now he's fucking tormenting me.

"I was just curious," he says, putting his hands up and trying to appear innocent. "I mean, the thought of you giving yourself a hand will really reduce my need to waste water with a long shower. I think I could be in and out in less than five minutes."

"Edward! Fucking get out!" I shriek, throwing a pillow at him and missing completely.

Sighing heavily and pouting, he turns to leave again. My lady bits scream out in protest, and it is very hard work to not beg him to stay.

"Edward?" I say tentatively just as he is about to disappear. He glances back at me, looking wary and lusty all at once. "I fully intend on giving myself a hand."

He growls and takes a step towards me as I brace myself for impact. But then he sprints off.

So I get myself off in like two seconds before smoking the majority of a pack of cigarettes. They were supposed to last me another nine days. I've been rationing and cutting back, but sexual frustration is driving me to nicotine.

Aw, fuck nuts. I'm growing to really hate this friends crap.

* * *

**Thoughts? Bella and Edward are kinda friendship failures, huh? What do we think of the Rose apology? Demanding Edward? Maggie? **

**Let me know! Or not.**


	26. Rehab

**Holy Toledo!**

**SO MANY NEW READERS! Apparently, HH was rec'ed on A Different Forest, and dang was it a successful recommendation. So thank you, thank you, thank you to who ever has been pimping for me. To the newbies, WELCOME. We are at the home stretch now. Maybe two chapters after this. Maybe three. I just don't quite know yet.**

**I'm sorry I disappeared for so long. Took a spontaneous trip to a fiddin' festival and some fuck awesome Civil War battlefields. Not a lot of internet in the wilds of Virginia. Thanks for all the reviews and PM's of support. Knowing people are so interested in the story is pretty great.**

**This chapter was a struggle for whatever reason. Probably because the next one is basically my favorite ever. Luckily it is almost done and should be up soon!**

**Okay. Enough from me. **

**Thank you so much for reading.**

**I don't own nothin'.**

* * *

February 19, 2011

"You don't have to come with me, Edward," she says, frowning as she slips into the closet to get dressed. I want her to change here, in front of me like she used to. Except that would lead to nothing good. We are friends. It's just difficult to remember sometimes, especially after what happened last night. That was a close call.

I don't even bother replying as she closes the door. Flopping backward on the bed, I let out a heavy sigh.

We are going to dinner.

Or, more specifically, we are going to dinner with the nomads. Liam (who is very weird with his silence) and Maggie (who I really do not like at all for obvious reasons). But of course I'm freaking going anyway. Mostly out of a hopefully irrational fear that she will disappear with them again.

Bella steps out of the closet, looking shockingly feminine, in a grey dress with fishnet tights. She wears bright red lipstick and Converse sneakers. Tonight she has attempted to tame her hair, pinning it back and smoothing it down. A couple strands have fallen out and hang around her face. She looks like a dark, modern pin up girl, and I want to kiss her.

"You don't have to come," she repeats, walking over to me and pushing her hand through my hair.

"Do you not want me to come?" I ask, bracing myself for her answer.

"Of course I want you to come," she replies, smiling at me. It does funny things to my heart, when she smiles at me. "But I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and let's face it. Maggie is probably going to make you uncomfortable."

"She's rude, Bella," I point out.

"Yeah, I don't like how she talks to you at all." Now Bella frowns, her face getting all scrunched and adorable.

"Then why do you feel the need to meet them?"

"Part of me doesn't want to go at all," she confesses with a sigh, sitting next to me. "But she isn't going to leave me alone unless I do the obligatory catch up thing and I feel like I still owe her, you know?"

"No," I snap, not getting it at all.

"She was my friend," she replies quietly. "I can't just ride her off. We traveled together for months and now she is here and I would just feel shitty totally burning that bridge. It's just one dinner. And I pretty sure I can get her to leave with minimal drama afterward, okay?"

I sigh heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I guess we are going to dinner."

Bella wraps her arms around my waist and lays her head on my shoulder. "You are so fucking wonderful. Thanks for coming with me."

Things are getting too tender and too emotional, so I stand, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the bedroom.

Twenty minutes later, Bella and I are seated at the ever-busy Mountain Sun, a brewery on Pearl Street. They have a wide selection of beer and it is hippie central. Bella loves it. I, on the other hand, don't particularly like beer. And the nomads are late.

"Do you think they got lost?" I ask, trying and failing to keep my sour mood out of my voice.

"Naw, bre," says Bella, dismissing my claim with a wave of her hand. "They just don't care about time."

I frown, and Bella chuckles into her stout.

"I know how you think promptness is next to godliness. But cheer up." She wiggles her way under my arm, and smirks up at me. "Just think of this as more alone time. I know how you like your alone time with me."

As much as I don't want to, I can't help but grin down at her. "You know," I reply, twirling a strand of her hair around my fingers and resting my other hand on her hip. "If this was two years ago, I'd be kissing you senseless right now. Ow! Shit, Bella. I think you've learned to punch harder."

"I wouldn't have to punch you if you wouldn't say such fucking torturous things," she mutters, scowling at me through her blush.

I laugh because she is adorable when she's mad, but my chuckle dies in my throat when I am overcome with tenderness for the woman snuggled into my side. I run my thumb across her cheekbone, and her breath hitches.

"You look beautiful, Isabella," I murmur. Her cheeks get even redder.

"Edward—"

"'Ello there, chums," Maggie says, interrupting Bella and bringing back my bad mood. She slides in to the booth across from us, dragging the eerily silent Liam with her. "You two look cozy."

"We were," I mutter, frowning as Bella puts distance between us. My arm drops to my side because friends shouldn't be getting cozy in public booths. Or private booths. But a little cuddling doesn't seem too terrible after all the rule breaking of yesterday.

Damn, that was hot.

I start recreating our wild make out session in my head and realize that I've missed a considerable amount of conversation. Everyone is looking at me. Maggie frowns as if she would rather I not be here at all. Liam stares impassively. Bella flashes me a little, secret smile, as if she knows exactly what has been going on in my head for the last few minutes.

"So, Eddie," says Maggie, directly across the booth from me. "Want another beer?"

I glance down at my now gone ale with mild distaste. "It's Edward," I correct. "And no thank you."

"You sure?" she pushes, standing slightly and making to move to the bar.

"Yes," I reply, trying not to sound terse. I fail.

"Positive?" she pushes. I just stare at her in response.

"Edward is not much of a beer drinker," Bella says, stepping in to relieve the tension. "But he does love his wine, don't you, baby?"

She puts her hand on my shoulder, and I think I'll be able to get through this night if Bella keeps touching me.

"Indeed," I reply. Maggie gives me a strained smile before bopping off, leaving us with her silent husband.

"Liam," Bella says, surprising the pants off me. In my head he is not someone you address directly. He is just the creepy accompaniment to the irritating Maggie. "Dude, you will be happy to know the Chevy is still kickin'. I was terrified it would be dead after two years of neglect."

Liam actually smiles and shakes his head before speaking in an accent so thick I don't catch a word of it other than "ay." But Bella laughs at whatever he said, and I love the sound of her voice so I decide he is not so bad sans his conniving counterpart.

"Yeah, my friend Jake kept it in tip top shape," she continues as Maggie slides back into the booth with a tray full of beer and shots. She distributes the drinks, giving me a large glass of water. "What yah got there, Mags?" Bella asks, raising her eyebrow at the three large shot glasses on the table full of brown liquid.

"Liam!" Maggie admonishes when she husband takes his shot without preamble. "I was intendin' that we cheers to our reunion."

Liam just shrugs and sips his dark beer. Maggie tries to hand Bella a shot, but she shakes her head.

"What's the matter?" Maggie says, blinking in surprise. "It's whiskey."

"No thanks," says Bella, taking a beer instead.

"But it's whiskey," Maggie repeats, gaping at my lady love.

"I'm doing this new thing where I only drink things I like the taste of," explains Bella, wincing as Maggie's mouth pops open in shock.

"You don't like the taste of whiskey?" Maggie clarifies with a scowl.

"Nope. Never really have, now that I think about it." I smile at Bella because this statement it's self is such a change for her. Alcohol is no longer a means to an end for Bella, just something to enjoy. It adds to life on occasion rather than serving as a tool to help her forget it.

"Well, I do," I say, taking the glass and silently toasting a glaring Maggie before pouring the liquid down my throat and smacking my lips in contentment. This catch up dinner is quickly turning into a sort of battle between the red headed devil and myself.

"Who _are_ you?" snaps Maggie, turning back to Bella.

Bella smirks and leans across the table, elbows on the surface. "I'm Bella motherfucking Swan," she says, raising her chin, narrowing her eyes, and continuing to smirk. "Who the fuck are you?"

Maggie's mouth opens and closes rapidly, but she can't seem to form words. Liam chuckles and pats his astonished spouse on her back.

"Well," I say, pleasantly as the waitress approaches. "Let's order, shall we?"

Dinner is tense after that. Maggie goes on and on about their grand adventures, obviously attempting to make Bella jealous of the travel. Bella remains polite but aloof, not divulging anything too personal about her year in Forks or her relationship with me. Maggie assumes we are together, and I have no desire to correct this belief. Maggie asks me rude questions, disparaging my career choice and decision to work for "the man."

And it's fine. Because Bella makes sure to constantly touch me.

There is only one, brief moment of reminiscence when Maggie and Bella laugh about drunken karaoke. I can't imagine Bella singing in front of people and say so. Maggie offers to show me a video on her phone, but Bella quickly vetos the idea, glaring at Maggie. She explains that she doesn't think that I need to see her that wasted, and I try not to let the situation bother me.

By the end of the meal I can tell Bella is over the whole situation, but I still don't see how she is going to get the nomads to leave us alone.

"Where to now?" Maggie asks ask we exit the restaurant.

"It's getting kinda late," replies Bella, glancing at her watch and retrieving her pack of cigarettes from her purse.

"It's 10:30," Maggie snaps. "Let's go out."

"Naw, bre," says Bella. "We're going home. Right, sweetheart?"

"Indeed," I agree, nodding my head as Bella grabs my hand. I stick our combined palms into my coat pocket in defense of the cold. "I'm beat."

"Isa, don't be ridiculous!" Maggie continues to make a fool of herself. All night she has seemed to ignore the glaring fact that Bella has changed. Considerably. This whole evening has just served to remind me how far Bella has come and the progress we have made back towards coupldom. I keep this in mind as Maggie continues to offend me. "When was the last time you slept more than three hours?"

"You were only sleeping for three hours a night?" I ask, looking down at Bella in concern as we walk towards our house. She just shrugs, taking a long draw of her cigarette, and looks at me with big, sad eyes.

"That is the norm," Maggie says, as if she knows Bella's habits better than I do. We continue to walk home, and I wish the pair would just disappear.

"No it's not, Maggie," murmurs Bella, pulling herself closer to my side. "I wasn't sleeping because I was miserable and taking too many drugs."

"You were miserable with us?" Now Maggie sounds upset. Her voice is so strained that even I almost feel a twinge of pity for her. Almost.

"I was miserable without Edward," Bella explains, talking softly and making me flush with pleasure.

"I was miserable without you, too," I whisper in her ear, dropping a quick kiss on her temple.

"Where you going to go now, Mags?" Bella continues after flashing me a quick smile. She drops her half smoked cancer stick to the ground and steps on it as we approach our house on Goss.

"Dunno, to a bar I suppose," replies Maggie.

"No, not tonight. I mean after you leave Boulder," Bella clarifies.

"Haven't really thought about it," replies Maggie.

"Mags," Bella says, keeping remarkably calm. I know she is trying to tell the nomads to get lost. "You can't stay here. "

"I can bloody well stay anywhere I so choose!" sputters an irate Mags. We are now home, and I wander onto the porch with Liam as Maggie and Bella square off.

As my lady love would say, shit is about to get real.

Bella sighs, collecting herself. "Right. It's a free ass country and all that shit. But you certainly can't stay parked in my fucking front lawn. I can't be a part of your life. I can't go back."

"You don't want me here?" Maggie squeaks, sounding hurt now.

"No, I don't." I can tell that Bella is working really hard to keep her voice calm by the tension in her jaw. Liam sits by my feet on the steps, leaning back on his elbows. He glances up at me, patting the wood next to me. With a shrug, I settle in to watch the show next to Liam.

"How can you possibly—"

"It's just not workin'," replies Bella, still trying to sound polite. She fails. "You don't respect my desire to get my shit together."

"You ungrateful little bitch," Maggie yells, semi-hysterical now. I bristle at her words, but do not interfere. Bella can handle herself, and I know she won't be holding anything back now. "I gave you food! Shelter! Drugs! I put up with the wretched vibes you emanated constantly. I spend the energy getting to know you, pulling you out of your funk! I let you fuck in the back of my van and made sure you weren't passed out in the gutter. How dare you!"

Oh shit. Bella's lip has twitched into an evil smile, but closes her eyes and collects herself, yet again. And when Bella finally replies, she seems to completely disregard Maggie's little fit.

"To answer your original question," says Bella, fists clenched at her sides. "I don't want you here because you are rude to my boyfriend." I assume she means me even though we are markedly not there yet. I like that she sees me this way, and I remember the olden days when I saw her this way despite her clams to the contrary. It makes me smile. "You haven't changed at all which would be fine, I don't give a fuck if you want to act like a fucking child on your own time, but you can't get it through your pubescent brain that I'm different. I'm happy. I don't want to go back. You may have had a motherfucking blast those months I lived with you but I barely even felt like a person. I had fucking exiled myself, and everyday I ached to feel human enough to come back home. And now I have, so no. I don't want you here because not only are you a constant reminder of my darkest days, but every fucking minute you are either trying to take me back there or insulting the person I care about most in this world. Sorry Mags. But you it's over. You have to let it be over."

Maggie just blinks. The contrast between the two women is rather shocking. Bella stands tall, angry but firmly in control. Maggie's face is red and she looks as flustered as Bella looks cool. I find I'm quite proud of the new woman before me.

"And I paid my own way," Bella continues, turning towards me. "Now get the fuck away from my house."

We go inside and I'm not totally sure what to say to after I shut the door behind us. I sense that Bella is having some sort of moment or break through here, and I don't want to ruin it by saying the wrong thing, such as congratulating her on her awesomeness or telling her just how much I enjoyed her telling "Mags" what's what.

Bella lets out a huge sigh before collapsing onto the living room sofa. "I'm so fucking sorry," she says, blinking up at me and sounding miserable.

"Why?" I ask, genuinely shocked by this statement. "You fucking rocked out there. Personally, I loved it."

When Bella doesn't even crack a smile, and I start to get really concerned.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I ask, moving to sit next to her.

"I'm a fucking moron. I can't believe I subjected you to that!" she yells. I don't particularly like her berating herself.

"Bella, don't worry about me. I was fine. I mean, it would certainly wouldn't make my list of ten favorite evenings, but it wasn't so bad. It was kinda cool, to see this refined version of you ripping someone a new one. The old Bella would have just punched her." Success! She cracks a smile. It's quick and she goes back to frowning after a moment, but I definitely saw it. "What I really don't get is why you felt the need to subject yourself to that."

"I… don't really know." Bella's forehead furrows, indicating that she is thinking really hard. "I already told you that I felt this obligation to Maggie. She did keep me out of a lot of trouble, which sounds weird I know but it's true."

"I understand," I reply, rubbing the back of her neck. "Mostly."

"But there is more," she continues. "I don't really know how to explain it, but I felt like I needed to test myself somehow. I've changed so much in the last few years, its kinda fucking ridiculous. Sometimes I have a hard time believe its real, yah know?"

Oh I know. Oh, baby, how I know it.

"So seeing them… I was just curious to see if I would feel any temptation to go back to that," she says, blushing deeply and studying her hands that rest in her lap.

"Back to what?" I whisper, pretty freaked out by the direction this conversation is taking.

"Livin' with no cares. No responsibility. It was easier for me, not thinking. Keeping myself numb. It was fucking killing me, but it really was easier than dealing with all my demons. So I was curious to see if I felt any desire to go back," she says, looking at me with wide eyes.

"And the conclusion is?" I demand.

"Nothin'," she says, with a big goofy grin. "Just as I suspected."

"So you are saying that this little dinner confirmed that you don't want to be a nomad?" I clarify. Even after all these years I find it a little difficult to follow Bella logic.

"Yup," she say, proud now. "My doubts in myself were teeny, tiny, but now they are gonzo."

I smile back, happy that she seems so pleased with herself. Perhaps the last few, painful hours were actually worth it. I'm glad she's had this little break though. I'm glad she can trust herself. Now if I could only get there.

"I'm not goin' no where, baby," she whispers, apparently reading my mind.

Logically, I believe her. Soon I hope all of me will too.

March 5, 2011

"So what do you want to do tonight?" Bella asks as we trudge home in the snow from Jolina's with a pizza so huge we will never be able to eat it on our own. She grasps my arm and has already slipped four times in the three blocks we've walked. Once we almost go down, and Bella yells "save the pizza!"

"The housemates are all going out for drinks if you're interested," I reply. It has been two weeks since our weekend was hijacked by the nomads. I thought Bella might be upset from the fall out, but anything she seems happier.

"Are _you_ interested?" she asks, crinkling her nose at me. I lean over to kiss it because I can't not, causing us to slip again. This time it's Bella that keeps me upright.

"The pizza, Edward!" she yells through her laughter. "The pizza."

"And to answer you're question, I am only interested in spending the night with you," I tell her as we turn onto the driveway. She isn't going to like my plans for the evening, but I've finally decided to take a more active role in the healing process so she will just have to go along with it.

"Well I kinda wanted to stay in. If that's okay?"

"It's great. Pizza, wine," I reply.

"Cozy," she murmurs.

"You are really not going to like what I want to do tonight," I confess as I finagle holding the door open for her and balancing the gigantic pizza.

"Oh, good grief. What now?" Bella says, sighing heavily as she kicks off her boots and peels off her jacket. I hand her the pizza and she hands me the coat. I hang it along with mine in the closet before putting our shoes away in the utility room where they will not melt snow onto the wood floor. "Are you going to quiz me about my childhood again? Because that was really fun."

"Don't get snarky with me," I reply, chuckling at her dramatics. Bella has set the pizza down on the coffee table in the living room before sliding on her socks into the kitchen. I sit, inhaling deeply as I open the pizza box. Bella returns with paper plates, napkins, a bottle of pinot noir, and two glasses.

"Okay, lay it on me," she says, sitting close to me and grabbing a slice.

"I want to talk about the year you were traveling."

Predictably, Bella groans in misery.

"I just want to go over your journal. I have been for awhile, and the appearance of Maggie got me curious again. I had so many questions when I was reading it, and I was thinking we could read it together," I tell her, enjoying my own slice.

"Why?" she asks, gaping at me in shock. "Why in the hell would you want to do that? Bad, painful things happened in that year. Need I remind you of the whole James situation?"

"No, I fucking remember," I growl out.

"You know about it. You know where I was and what I did and my reasons for leaving in the first place," Bella says.

"Do I? Do I really know?" I insist, abandoning my pizza when it becomes clear that this is going to escalate into a real, legitimate fight. Bella has done the same and is pacing around in front of me, sucking down her wine and frowning.

"Yes! That's why I gave you the damn thing!" she yells. "Do you really think I wanted to give you my journal? Do you think it was pleasant for me? Confessing all the fucked up shit I did after I left you? Do you think I want you to see me that way? You always thought the best of me and that's obviously not true anymore, but I knew that when I gave you the journal. But I did it because I wanted you to know everything."

"I get that," I reply, attempting to be the calm one. As usual. "And I appreciate that you are working on letting me in like this. It's a touching gesture, really."

"Then way are we still talking about it?" she demands, stopping her frantic movements to stand in front of me, glaring at me with her hands on her hips.

Damn, she is so beautiful. I really want to kiss her.

"I am trying to move on here," she says. "And you are dragging us back into the past."

"Isabella," I reply, really working very hard to not lose patience. "I want to move on as well. But to do that, I feel like I need to understand. At this point, I know all these facts but I am not totally clear on your motivation."

"Not clear?" she sputters, still looking highly displeased.

"I want you to explain your journal to me so I can understand and then move on," I reply.

She sighs heavily, and I know I've won. "You and your fucking logic," Bella mutters before sitting next to me. "Can I at least enjoy my dinner in peace first?"

Nodding, I kiss her cheek and go back to my pizza.

"What did you do to this page?" Bella asks, laughing slightly as she attempts to smooth the crumpled and slightly ripped paper.

She lies on her stomach on her bed while I sit in the desk chair by her head. Normally, I would join her on the bed, but it is just too dangerous these days. Sex is something I really want from Bella. I crave it. Plus emotions are running high, and that would probably just lead to angry sex. Which would be bad.

I mean, good. Really, really fucking good.

But bad in a larger sense.

"I didn't like that entry," I mutter, yanking on my hair.

"This is just the Bella learns to swim day," she says, furrowing her brow in confusion. "You tore up Bella learns to swim and didn't touch Bella drunkenly fucks James on a beach."

"Please do not say that again," I groan. This is much harder than I expected it to be.

"Sorry," she replies, reaching up to remove my hand from my hair and kissing my palm. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I feel like we need too. Don't you feel like we need too?" I ask. Now, like most of the time, I have no idea what I am really doing with Bella. It's an unprecedented situation, and I really am doing my best. We are just fumbling through this process of healing. It is very, very frustrating.

"If you feel like you need to than yes, let's do it. But what are you trying to get out of this exercise?"

Suddenly exhausted, I stand from my chair and settle myself next to Bella on the bed. It seems that all of our major conversations take place in this bed.

"I understand now. Why you left. That part I get. You were barely holding on as it was, and I get how losing the baby sent you over the edge. When stuff got too real, you would leave. That's how you coped, so I understand why you ran away after you miscarried," I say, talking quietly. I sort out my thoughts as I speak, and I hope she comprehends what I'm trying to tell her.

"But I don't understand James," I confess as Bella rolls on her side to get a better look at my face. "At all. I don't get why you chose to leave with him. Bella, _him_ of all people. All I can picture when I read about you doing drugs and James is that night when I saw him all over you in the basement. You helpless, and him grabbing at your skin."

It still makes me sick, thinking about it.

"Oh, Edward," she says, her voice breaking as the tears start. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even think you still thought about that."

"Of course I still think about it," I murmur. "Please, don't cry."

"Fuck, I _hate_ this," Bella says, punching the mattress.

"Me too," I murmur.

"Edward," she continues through her sniffles. "Listen carefully now because I've said this before but you were obviously not listening. I. Did. Not. Choose. James. I didn't _choose_ him. I happened upon him drunk and he happened to be leaving that night. I was drunk and decided to take it as a sign from the universe."

"Okay," I reply. "So that explains why you left with him. But you stayed with him for a year, Bella! A whole year. You slept with him—"

"Not very often," she defends.

"And he told you he loved you—"

Bella snorts. "The boy only loves himself."

"And he taught you how to swim," I continue. "He helped you keep your head above water."

"Ah," she says as if she finally understands what I'm having a hard time explaining even to myself. "And you wanted to be the one to keep my head above water," Bella finishes for me, eloquently and metaphorically expressing just what I am getting at.

"But you never let me. You let James," I reply, somewhat petulantly.

"Edward, James was terrible for me. I used him to get high and forget. I never needed him or depended on him or even really wanted him."

I just scowl and pout.

"Edward Anthony," she says, scooting dangerously close and running a thumb down my jaw. "I know, in your head, you have spent that last few years vilifying James. But as much as you don't want to hear this, he wasn't a totally bad guy. He wasn't great, but he was not terrible either. Mostly, he was a total non event. He was easy to be around because I didn't care about him at all. If anything my time with him just made me miss you more and realize how good you are. How lucky I was to have you and how fucking stupid I was to not see it at the time."

"But you had to have cared about him somewhat!" I say, still not getting it. "You stayed with him for a year."

If she could have stayed with him for a year without caring about him than she could have stayed with me without caring. But that can't be the case. She's back. She's here. She is finally letting me in. Right. Gah, my head hurts.

"I wasn't _with_ him, Edward!" she declares, sitting up and getting really frustrated with me now. "I don't know what else to say to make you see. James was just around. He was useful for getting drugs and the occasional laugh, but mostly he was a pain in the ass. Typically, all I felt for him was mild annoyance bordering on apathy. You, I was with. You, even while I was gone, I am freakin' obsessed with. You I wanted and needed and depended on. You I continue to want and need and depend on. Got it?"

I let her words sink into my brain and finally start to believe her.

"Yes, ma'am," I say, smirking now. I think I see. She cares about me. "Can I kiss you now?" I ask, flushing slightly. Bella blushes in return. "Just really quickly. Please?"

"Of course," she says with a giggle.

I press my lips into hers, and immediately feel my whole body relax and warm at the touch. We keep it quick, chaste. But it calms and arouses me anyway.

"Ah," I say, clearing my throat in an attempt to also clear my head. "Where were we?"

"Kissing?" Bella says hopefully.

"Before that," I correct, smiling at her.

"I can't remember. My brain is totally on kissing," she whispers.

Again, I have to clear my throat and move away from her. I stay against the headboard and pull her journal into my lap.

"We're still doing this?" she asks in exasperation.

"Yeah, I want to know everything."

We go over ever little detail of the journal. Bella answers all my questions, even the hard ones. She tells me all about her travels, giving me even more detail about the places she went and the people she met. She even smiles a bit and laughs when she shares the good memories. I find it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would.

"I can't believe you sang karaoke," I mutter. "Come on, give me a demonstration."

"Aw, fuck no," she yells.

"Please?" I ask, thinking about tickling her into submission. But that too is far too dangerous and would lead to far more physical contact than I can handle at the moment.

"Absolutely not. Maggie tricked me and I was high as fuck," she says, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling.

I scowl at the thought of the woman Bella basically chased out of Boulder two weeks ago. Although I was not fond of her portrayal in the journal, I absolutely loathe her now. I hate Maggie view of the world. How she continued to attempt to make Bella go back to before.

And the drugs…. Well I really hate to think of Bella like that. Totally out of control and killing herself.

"When was the last time you did drugs?" I ask.

Bella's nose scrunches up in thought as she tries to remember. "I'm not sure. More than a year ago. Right before I flew to Forks. Or the hard stuff, anyway. I smoked a couple times with Tyler in Forks, but that was at least six months ago if not more."

"I would probably really hate Tyler if I wasn't so busy hating James," I reply. "Did you ever kiss him?"

"No, Edward," she says, sighing heavily. "I told you. He is just a friend. His friendship was really good for me. We talked. I needed a lot of practice talking about the real stuff. Feelings and shit."

"It's just baffling to me that you now have all these relationship with people I don't know that somehow helped you in ways I couldn't," I say, just now figuring out why I resent all the new people in Bella's life.

"It was easier talking to them." Ouch, that kinda hurt. I want her do be able to talk to me. "Don't look so sad, Edward. Let me explain. I just meant that their opinion meant less to me. I felt like I could be honest with them because I could handle their judgment. I was not scared of them having a negative opinion of me. With you… well you always thought so highly of me. I felt like if you knew everything you would hate me or think less of me, and I couldn't handle that."

"Bella, I would never—"

"I know," she interrupts, smiling at me. "I know that now. Just think of it as practice. For two years I practiced being completely open with you. Okay?"

"Okay," I reply, grinning as well.

"Can I kiss you now? Just really quickly? Please?" Bella says, talking so fast the words run together.

"Okay," I reply again.

I am very wary as Bella zeros in on my mouth. The more time I'm with her, the harder it is to refrain from touching her. It would be so easy, to use sex to feel better. But I think we are supposed to be feeling all this right now. It seems important. Sex is a great distraction, and we need to keep talking.

But Bella surprises me. Instead of taking advantage, she keeps her body away from mine, and her kiss as quick as mine had been. She does lick my bottom lip in that way that drives me crazy and pushes a littler firmer than I did, but I was prepared to ward off a bombardment.

Even though she is the strong one in that department these days.

"That was nice," she says with a sigh as she pulls away.

I hum my agreement before continuing to read her journal. Mostly it's a tactic to keep myself from jumping her.

"Did you really slap him and then throw up on his shoes when he told you he loved you?" I ask, chuckling slightly at that image as I skim the last few pages of the notebook.

"Yup."

I want to ask her about this revelation she has in this entry. I think she realized she loves me, but it seems too soon to talk about these feelings, so I keep going. I've waited so long to hear how she really feels about me, I don't see the need to rush. Plus, if I asked I would feel like I was forcing it out of her. She needs to draw that conclusion herself.

Also, I am chickening out because I am terrified that she doesn't feel like I do.

"You punched him," I say, really grinning now. "I love that you punched him."

"Yeah, it was a good moment. Hurt like a bitch, though," Bella says.

"I'm well aware. He has a hard head."

Bella laughs and is about to reply but my phone goes off.

"Hello?" I answer.

"What the fuck, man?" Jake booms, speaking over the crowd at whatever bar he is inevitably visiting tonight. "Where the fuck are you?"

"At home," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Well, come out!" he demands.

"No," I reply. "I plan on staying in tonight."

"You are such a whipped little pansy bitch," he says. "What the fuck is up with you being in Boulder and not calling me?"

"I just needed some private time," I reply. Bella frowns slightly and bites her lip as I talk. Overcome with tenderness for this new version of the woman I love, I remove her lip from her teeth before absently twirling her hair through my fingers.

"Oh I see how it is," Jake continues. "The second you get your girl back, you forget all about your boys. What happened to bro's before hoe's man?"

I laugh loudly. "Firstly, this is exactly what happened with you when you started dating. And secondly, she would kill you for calling her a hoe."

Bella's eyebrows go way up at this, and the lip is back between the teeth.

"Which one? Bella or Leah?" he asks.

"Both," I respond with a chuckle.

"Dude. I've missed you and your weird brainyack sense of humor. Please come out?" he whines.

I stroke Bella's cheek and think about all the people I would have to share her with if we venture beyond this house. "Not tonight. But how about we meet for breakfast in the morning?"

"Cool. Ten? Lucille's?"

"Sure."

"Can I bring Leah?"

"Of course."

We hang up, and I turn to Bella.

"What's wrong?" I ask when I see the frown remains on her lovely face.

"Who are you meeting for breakfast?" she asks, trying to sound casual. But she is fiddling with the bedspread, so I know she is nervous.

"_We_," I reply, pulling her into my side, "are meeting Jake. And probably Leah at Lucille's."

"Jake?" she exclaims, leaping away from my body so she can gape at me properly. "Jake? My Jake, your former arch enemy, was on the phone begging you to go out tonight?"

"Yeah. I thought you knew that we are friends now," I say, chuckling at her. She makes the cutest facial expressions when she is surprised. Or happy. Or pretty much all the time actually.

"Yes. I did know this. But knowing is different than _seeing_," she says, still looking completely gob smacked. "I didn't realize you were that fucking close. I thought you got along in a group, not that you called each other and shit."

"We're pretty close now," I say. "I hung out with him all the time when you left. He got what I was feeling better than Jazz and Em."

Bella lets out some sort of gurgling, groaning, banshee scream before collapsing forward and burying her face in a pillow.

"I thought you would be happy," I repeat, a little alarmed at this response.

"My brain just exploded," she mumbles into the pillow, muffling her reply.

Now I can't help but laugh at her. She turns her head to scowl at me.

"Who did you think it was?" I ask, chuckling slightly.

"Dunno," she mutters with a scowl. "Some bitch lookin' to get in your pants."

"Bella, that is ridiculous."

"Can we just go to bed now?" she pleads. "All this talk and confessions and emotion have thoroughly exhausted me."

"Of course, love," I reply, leaning down to kiss her forehead. It's my safe zone, the area I can touch her without totally risking losing my control. She smiles at me, and I move to get out of bed. I've been spending my nights on the couch, but Bella grabs my wrist.

"Do you… uh… do you think maybe you could, um, stay here tonight?" she asks, sounding nervous and shy and ridiculously appealing. Her face flames, and I want to see her blush reach her chest. "No funny business! I won't try and seduce you or anything. I just don't want to be away from you tonight."

"I don't want to be away from you either," I confess, smiling at her and pushing her hair out of her face.

"So you'll stay?"

"I'll stay."

"What the fuck is your deal, Isa-belly?" Jake demands, his mouth full of beignet. He has powdered sugar all over his chin, and Leah shakes her head in a sort of resigned disgust. "You haven't said anything at all and you haven't touched your beignet. Are you sick?"

Bella still doesn't reply and just continues to stare at her best friend. With a chuckle, I lay my arm across her shoulders along the back of the booth.

"She is still in shock that we are such good friends," I explain, rubbing her neck. Bella relaxes slightly at my side.

"Ah," Jake says, nodding in understanding and licking his fingers clean of sugar with loud slurping sounds.

"That's fucking gross," says Leah, throwing a napkin at his face. "And what do you mean? You two haven't always been good friends?"

Jake and I have a good laugh before answering.

"I fucking hated that guy," says Jake. "He was this annoying little nerd that somehow managed to steal my best friend."

"And I was highly threatened by the pot head Neanderthal that cared too much for my woman," I add.

"Huh," Leah says. "That's weird."

"It's not weird!" says Bella. "It was the natural order of things. This buddy, buddy crap is highly disconcerting."

"I remember a time when you would badger us incessantly to try to get along," I remind her.

"Yup," Jake says. "Ah, good times. We never did have that race, you filthy bloodsucker. I'm going to fucking own you."

"Not likely, mangy mongrel," I reply before laughing again.

"How did this happen?" Bella demands. "I must know."

"I took his virginity," Jake says.

We all stare at him in varying degrees of horror and confusion.

"His pot virginity," he explains, sighing as if it should have been obvious.

"YOU GOT HIM HIGH!" Bella yells. I shush her as several other customers and waitresses turn to glare at my ladylove. "That's how you turned out friends? He got you high? You smoked? Good grief, I really did do a number on you."

"That was the key," Jake says. "We are bonded forever over Eddie's inaugural weed experience."

"Don't call me Eddie."

"Well, I can't call you Edward," he replies. "People named Edward don't smoke the ganj. They wear monocles and vests and live in libraries and play croquette."

"Well, I certainly don't have a monocle," I muse.

"You play croquette?" Jake asks with a bark of a laugh. "Dude, get a life."

"Can we get back to the point here?" Bella snaps in exasperation. "This unholy union happening here."

"Bella!" Jake shouts indignantly. "You nagged and nagged and nagged us both to get a long and now that we do you are pissed about it?"

I chuckle because Bella is cute when she is flustered. Also Jake makes a damn good point.

"I'm not pissed!" she sputters in reply. "I'm just shocked. It's good. Really good. I always knew you two would be buddies if you stopped with the grudge holding and quit being such butt muntchers. Just never thought it would actually happen."

"That is offensive. I'm a highly logical person," I defend.

"And never have I munched a butt in my entire life," puts in Jake.

Bella rolls her eyes but then cracks a smile. "Things sure have changed around here," she says. "I think I like it."

Yes, as do I.

* * *

**So not too much happened, but a necessary chapter I believe. Originally I was going to include an Edward Jake flashback, but I think we are all done with the angst. Perhaps an outtake one day.**

**Thoughts?**


	27. Things Come Together

**This is a good one. **

**I hope you like it.**

**All the positive response to the last couple chapters has been amazing. I don't even know what to say, its been so great.**

**Not mine.**

* * *

March 10, 2011

"Come here, you stupid animal," I growl, crawling on my hands and knees under my bed. Of course the damn cross-eyed fool has retreated to the far corner. I swear to Buddha he fucking smirks at me. He lets out a little purr as I stretch out my fingers, and even though he tilts his chin like he wants me to pet him, Waldo remains just out of reach.

I push my body forward, but the cat dodges behind a storage box before I can grab him.

"Urg!" I yell in frustration. "Motherfuck you, you motherfucking half breed!"

Waldo lets out a little snort, and I swear the animal is laughing at me. I shake the storage box, hoping it will inspire him to emerge, but Waldo holds tough.

I refuse to be defeated by the pound pussy and decide it's time to bring out the big guns.

Ten minutes later I am seated against the headboard, a small bowl of ice cream sitting in my lap and my third, large, glass of wine in my hand. I eat with exaggerated pleasure. "Umm," I groan as if I am experiencing orgasm rather than brain freeze. "So good. This ice cream is delicious. Opps," I continue, letting a drop fall to the wood floor at the side of the bed. "How clumsy of me."

I give up with the moaning and what not because my brain really does hurt and the faked pleasure is downright exhausting especially because I'm not fucking getting any these days. But hopefully I will be able to change all that this weekend. It is time to take action, and I am so totally done with the whole friends thing.

Relationship purgatory is over, and I'm tried of waiting around on Edward to make the next move. Plus, It's my turn to pursue him. My turn to go after what I want. Which is him, obviously. Neither of us have any fucking clue what we are doing, and I have decided it's up to me to take action.

I just need Waldo to help me practice so I wait patiently with my eyes glued to the drop of ice cream on the floor. As expected, his little ginger head pops out from beneath the bed less than a minute later. Dude loves ice cream, though his little kitty body does not handle it well and he ends up reeking for a week afterward.

After licking at the floor he jumps onto the bed, purring and rubbing on me. "Oh, now you're all cuddly. Now that I have something you want." He just blinks at me, tilting his head to the side. With a heavy sigh I put the bowl in front of him, allowing him access to the tiny amount of sugary sweetness left in it.

"Alright, kit kat," I say as he laps up the last of the ice cream. "Now that you are all fed and stinky, you owe me."

He sits at the end of the bed, blinking up at me with those big, green, slightly crossed eyes and licking his lips. Well, cats don't really have lips. Waldo licks the place where his lips would be if he was a person. Gah, focus, Bella. I am on a mission and letting myself get all distracted by weird as shit like cat lips.

I'm going to blame the wine and my nerves for that particularly bizarre digression.

I stand and pace in front of the bed. Waldo's head swings from side to side as he watches my twitchy movements. Krishna, how the hell am I going to do this? I am a fucking wreck just thinking about saying what I have to say. And Edward isn't even fucking here.

I spend a few more minutes berating myself for being so fucking crazy. This isn't hard for normal people. It's just us crazies that can't owe our feelings.

But I'm going to do it. I am tried of this strange, pseudo friendship place he put us in months ago. Since the departure of the nomads and our analysis of my journal, I have been waiting around for him to get his shit together and take us to the next level but he seems perfectly content to just continue as we are.

Fuck this shit.

I need sex. I need connection. I need him.

And I am coming to think that Edward is purposely leaving it to me to make it happen. He spent so much time putting his whole self out there, pursuing me relentlessly even when I was a total heartless bitch. It is my turn to risk everything to tell him how I feel. To make it clear that he is it for me.

So, I have decided with the input of Dr. Jones, the new shrink, that is time for me to suck it up and say it. It is time for me to confess my love to Edward.

Gah, I fear I may be sick.

I glance down at Waldo who has moved from lip smackin' to butt lickin', and I fear that my plan to practice might be doomed.

Renee used to say she loved me. All the time, she used to claim to love me just as she claimed to love mother earth, the color of the sky, a particularly worn out pair of leather boots, and the artwork of fucking Dr. Seuss. She didn't love me anymore than she loved a fucking cartoon. It's funny how easily the words flowed from her mouth now that I can't even bring myself to really think them without feeling like I'm gonna pass the fuck out.

But none of that really matters now. He deserves to hear it just as I want to say it. Edward is coming to town tomorrow, and I need to be ready by then. This is my grand gesture. To finally tell him how I feel— not that he doesn't already know it. He deserves everything from me, and I just pray that he will want what I want.

So far, I've said the words out loud once to my reflection and once to good old Dr. Jones. Now, I'm planning on practicing to the damn cat until I feel a little more confident about what I'm going to do. The whole thing is fucking ridiculous. It shouldn't be this hard, but I can't help the way I feel.

"Okay," I say, pausing my movements in front of Waldo. He glances up at me, mildly interested in what I have to say, as he starts work on licking his paw. "Waldo, my dear sweet pussy." I giggle to myself at this before berating myself for losing focus. Damn it, Isabella, enough with the tomfoolery.

Probably should've stopped a couple glasses ago.

"Waldo," I start again. "I... find you to me incredibly attractive. Do you by chance work out?"

I just get blinked at, and I bite my lip in stress.

"Waldo," I press on. "I... am really quite fond of your big green eyes. You are so dashing. Okay, this is fucking ridiculous. Get it together, Bells. Get it the fuck together." I do a little stretching and pump myself up, football player style. I even do a couple lunges around the room.

"Okay. Waldo, I love you." I say this in double time through clenched teeth and closed eyes. My whole body tenses, and stand there for a moment, bracing myself for impact. I open one eye and peak around at my surroundings. Shockingly, the world did not end.

"Hey," I say, scratching his chin. "That wasn't so bad. I love you, I love you, I love you."

I let out a little giggle, endlessly pleased with myself, even if I do still want to vomit.

But then I decide that declaring one's love for a cat is very different then doing it for one's soul mate. If only Waldo looked a bit more like his dad.

When my cell rings fifteen minutes later, I am busy saying "I love you, Edward," to a very uncomfortable Waldo. I have him in a sweater vest and an old pair of Edward's glasses. The illusion is helped along by several more large glasses of wine.

"'Ello?" I say, giggling into the phone. I am amusing myself greatly with this whole practice session.

"Hello, love," replies the familiar velvet voice.

"Adonis!" I yell joyously into the phone. "I was just talking to you."

"Adonis, huh?" he says with a chuckle. "It's been awhile since I've heard that one."

"I'm feeling nostalgic," I explain, bringing Waldo into my lap. I finally take pity on him and remove the outfit while giving him a good cuddle. He scowls at me for another moment before settling against my tummy.

"Wait, what do you mean you were just talking to me?" he continues.

I just giggle in response.

"Are you drunk?" he asks, sounding amused now.

"Tipsy," I confess. "Thirsty Thursday and all that."

"Ah, talk about nostalgia," he replies, sounding wistful. "So what are you doing this fine night? Other than quenching your thirst?"

I want to tell him that my thirst has not been quenched, not since I last had his dick in my mouth, but somehow I refrain.

"Just hanging with Waldo," I say, laughing to myself again. "Practicing."

"Practicing for what?" he asks. "Best in Show?"

I let out a snort, nervous again now that I think about applying what I worked on today to Edward when he comes up tomorrow. A subject change is most definitely in order if I want to avoid getting sick all over the place.

"Something like that," I reply. "But I'm also doing one more thing."

"What's that?" he asks, wary now.

"Missing you," I murmur into the phone, feeling like crying now. I hate living so far away from Edward. I want to see him everyday. I want to wake up in his arms. I haven't seen him in weeks. I am busy working and volunteering and writing, and he barely even has time to sleep between his course load and shifts at the hospital and the student groups he's involved in.

It fucking sucks.

There is a long pause and all that irrational fear that he doesn't want me bubbles back up. "I miss you too," he says softly. "So fucking much, Isabella." His urgency soothes me, and I wiggle down in the pillows, closing my eyes and pretending that he is lying next to me. That Waldo's heat really is Edward's. "Not seeing you is driving me crazy! Which makes what I have to say even more difficult."

"What do you have to say, baby?" I ask, tensing again.

"I can't come up tomorrow," he says, sounding genuinely upset. "I have this honors meeting I forgot about tomorrow night and then a test on Monday. Plus, I was given extra shifts at the hospital. I'm so sorry. Love, I—"

I interrupt his ranting because he sounds so guilty. "Hey, don't do that," I say, speaking softly.

"Don't do what?" he asks. "Put school before you? Because I don't want to either but—"

"No, don't feel like you have to justify your actions so motherfucking much," I reply. "You are in med school. It's hard as shit and a fuckton of work. I get it. I don't want you to feel like you are falling behind because you feel like you have to take care of me—"

"But I want to see you!" he says, frustrated.

"I know, baby," I reply. "I want to see you too. Just don't feel guilty or worry that you're losing me when you can't. We'll make it work, okay?"

"Okay," he says, letting out a big sigh in what I hope is relief. I want him to understand that I support his doctordom all the motherfucking way. "Thanks for that, Bella."

"Of course, Edward," I reply, setting down again and getting sleepy. I reach over and turn off the bedside light as Waldo yawns and snuggles closer.

"Is there anyway you can come up here this weekend?" he asks, sounding desperate.

"'Fraid not," I mutter. "I work for the next four days. Nine hour shifts. Plus, I have tutor training in the evenings."

Becoming a literacy tutor through the library seemed like a grand way to give back, but it is seriously taking a chunk out of my Edward time.

"I wanted to do this in person all formally and fancy, but I suppose I will have to settle for the phone," he mutters in the phone. Thankfully he continues before I have time to demand explanation or freak out too terribly. "We have a formal, ever spring, thrown by the medical fraternity."

"You're a frat guy now? No shit," I say before I can stop myself.

"It's not like that," he says with a sigh. "It's about study, not drinking till we puke."

"I'm going to start calling you bro," I declare. "Yo, bro dude! Jager bombs and Key Light!"

"Will you stop babbling? I am trying to ask you out," he says sounding if he can't decide if he is frustrated or amused.

Wait, like on a date?

"Like on a date?" I burst out, unable to contain my excitement. "A fancy date? To a formal?"

"Yes. So what will it be?" he asks.

"What will what be?" I say with a giggle because it is just too damn fun to fuck with him. He is so fucking cute when he gets flustered.

"Bella!" he yells in exasperation.

"You haven't actually asked me anything yet," I point out.

Edward chuckles and sighs. "Isabella Marie Swan," he says after a pause. "Would you like to attend the spring formal with me?"

I squeak a little bit in joy because to me this is a real date, a real step forward. Also because I never went to dances in high school or was even asked, so I feel like I'm getting a do over on that whole experience. Plus, seems like a pretty good place to declare ones love.

I must really be alarming Edward with this over the top display of girliness.

"Are you alright?" he asks a moment later when I'm done celebrating.

"Yes," I reply when I realize he can't see me nodding my head.

"So was that a yes then?"

"Yes," I state with no hesitation this time.

"Great. It's a date."

I'm going on a motherfucking date with Edward Cullen. Huzzah!

He stays on the phone with me until I fall asleep.

EPOV

March 11, 2011

"I hate these things. I never have time to get a real date. Grad school sucks," says Randall, studying a glossy invite and frowning.

"Maybe this time we will actually meet some real life girls," says Amun hopefully. "I miss girls. Like, real girls. Not grad school girls who have no time to actually date."

"We don't have time to actually date," points out Felix. "It takes time to get to know a girl well enough for her to understand that grad school is a big fucking commitment. And we don't have the time."

"I just want to have sex," whines Randall. "Is it so wrong to want to have sex?"

I chuckle as I study because Randall sounds so damn wistful. Plus I can relate. It feels like I've been celibate my whole life rather than just the last few months. I want to change that but I really have to idea how to take the next step with Bella. I don't know if we're ready. Part of me is still so angry at her for leaving, even if I now understand her reasons aren't what I originally thought. I get why she had to leave, and I am thankful for the person she returned to me as. But I still find it difficult to reconcile my distrust with my desire to be with her and my acknowledgement that her departure facilitated necessary change.

Mostly I'm just terrified that she isn't as serious as I am. I am terrified of fucking it up.

"Shut up, Edward!" yells Randall. "You are damn lucky. You always go with Tia. I should have befriended a hot co-ed last year."

"Tia and I have just gone as friends in the past," I mutter.

"Still, you don't have to worry about the shame of being dateless."

"Actually," I say, shifting nervously in my seat. I've never shared anything this personal with my med school friends. They are more acquaintances really. We study and attend classes together, but I never let them get to know me. "I am not going with Tia this year."

"Why? Did Tia get a real date?" inquires Felix.

"Not that I know of…"

"You got a real date," Amun states, pointing a finger in my face.

"Yes, actually," I reply, smiling at the memory of how excited Bella was when I asked her to attend the spring formal.

"How the hell did you manage that?" demands Randall, looking shocked. "Who is she? Does she go here? Where did you meet? How did you find the time?"

"Randall, shut the fuck up and let the man speak," says Felix. "So? Who is she? What's her name? What does she look like?"

I fiddle with my pen, feeling awkward under their scrutiny. "Um… her name is Bella."

"Bella? Nice," says Amun, giving Randall a high five. I roll my eyes at their ridiculousness.

"Where did you meet?" asks Felix.

"We've known each other for a long time," I reply. They look totally unimpressed by my lame explanation. The three of them wait for more and I sigh when I realize I'm going to have to give them something if I ever want to get any studying done. "We dated through out undergrad, but then she um… moved away. But she recently returned."

"So you're rekindling your romance," says Randall, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know. It's complicated," I stutter.

"Damn, you really like her," observes Amun.

"Yes," I admit. "I really like her."

"When do we get to meet the luck lady?" asks Randall.

"Well, I'd have to say at the spring formal," I reply with a smile. I find I'm looking forward to the yearly dance for the first time.

March 19, 2011

"We're going to be late," Tia complains. "Our reservation is at seven."

"Bella just texted me. She is less than five minutes away," I say, trying not to lose patience with my friend. This will be the first interaction between her and Bella since Christmas break. I hope they can both be cordial. "It's not her fault the bus is running late."

The seven of us stand on the 16th Street Mall, waiting for Bella to arrive via bus. All the boys managed to get dates, asking out Tia and her girlfriends from our program.

"Perhaps she should have taken an earlier bus then," snaps Tia. I sigh and focus on the street, impatiently waiting. In the months since Tia found out about Bella, our relationship has gone back to normal on the whole. There is some lingering tension, but for the most part everything is status quo. That's why I'm so disappointed that Tia is being so rude. But maybe she is just irritated that I am not taking her and she is forced to attend with Randall.

"There's the bus. Calm down, T," says Amun.

"Tia, you look cold. Here, let me keep you warm," Randall offers to put his arm around Tia and she scowls at me.

Bella is the first one off the bus and sprints towards me. I haven't seen her in almost a month. School and work have kept me busy while most of her time has been occupied trying to get published in various literary magazines. .

Her excitement to see me matches mine to see her.

She slams into me with enough force to have me staggering back several feet. Her arms latch around my neck while the high-heeled shoes she holds in her hands clonk me in the side of the head, but I barely notice. I wrap my arms around her, lifting her off the ground.

Bella giggles and rains kisses down on my face. "I missed you, I missed you, I missed you," she says between kissing my cheeks, nose, and eyelids.

"Hey, stay still," I reply through a laugh of my own. She stops wiggling, smiling down at me and giving me the opportunity to kiss her soundly on the lips. When the urge to take the kiss deeper becomes too strong, I set her down.

It is only then that I realize I probably shouldn't have done that being as we are just friends. I think. This is all slightly more confusing than I anticipated.

"Hi," she says, beaming up at me.

"Hi," I reply, tucking a curly strand of flyaway hair behind her ear. I glance down, taking in her dress underneath her leather bomber jacket for the first time. She wears a tight purple and grey number that stops mid-thigh. The strips of fabric seem to wrap around her frame and straps crisscross form the bodice, forming an intricate pattern, almost like bandages. She looks so hot I forget how to form words. "Uh…."

I'm not sure is I want to show her off or hide her away from all eyes but my own.

"Yeah, I know. I look incredibly hot. Your sister is a miracle worker," she says, smirking up at me. Bella's eye make up is smoky and her cheeks are flushed.

"You certainly do," I murmur, still little stunned by her appearance. Her artfully wild hair, dark make up, and killer dress make her look dangerous and exotic and so damn fuckable.

It has been seventy-eight days since we last had sex. Almost exactly to the hour.

"Yo, Cullen," she says, smacking me lightly in the arm. "You gonna stand there gawking at me all night or are you gonna introduce me to your peeps?"

"Peeps? Huh?" I say, momentarily forgetting about my peers loitering behind me. "Oh! Right. Bella," I say, turning to face everyone and draping my arm around her shoulder. I make all the introductions, and all of my classmates gape at Bella in shock. She does look a lot different from the usual academic types. They are probably wondering why she wants to be with me. I wonder all the time.

"Sup," says Bella, giving everyone the head nod. "Hey, Tia. How are you?"

I am amazed new Bella is making an effort to be cordial. The old Bella would never have done such a thing.

"I'm fine, Bella. Why aren't you wearing shoes?" Tia asks.

Bella glances down at her feet and then back up at Tia. "I'm not very good at walking in heels," she explains, maintaining her balance with a hand on my arm to slip on her giant heels. I wonder what inspired her to wear actual fancy shoes instead of her usual Converse. I find I miss them.

"Then why are you wearing them?" Tia asks. I scowl at her in silent reminder to be nice.

"Just wanted to get a little closer to this one's face," she explains, biting her lip and smiling up at me. I blush as my peers continue to gape.

"I see," says Tia.

"Don't we have reservations?" Bella asks, glancing up at me.

"Ah, yes," I say. "Let's go."

An hour and several rounds of drinks later I'm doing my very best to not get pissed at my grad school friends. Amun, Felix, and Randall are fawning over Bella. Their unnecessary attention is making Bella uncomfortable and the making the neglected girls resent Bella.

"So Bella, Edward said you moved after graduation," says Felix. "Where did you live?"

"Moved?" she asks, eyes narrowing in confusion. She looks at me and I just shrug. I don't want my friends judging Bella by her past. "Ah… well I was in Florida for awhile."

Tia snorts into her fruity looking cocktail. It is her fourth of the evening, and I regard her warily. Tia is a three drink drunk, and typically limits herself to one glass of wine with dinner. Stressed by the combination of my flirtatious male friends and a hostile Tia, I find myself drinking more than I planned as well. Bella is the only one conducting herself in an appropriate manner, and I find her composure stunning and entrancing. This night, as well as how well she handled the nomads, is really making me see that Bella has changed. And I like it.

"Something wrong with Florida, Tia?" asks Amun. "Because Miami just so happens to be my homeland."

Tia just shakes her head and giggles into her drink.

"I lived in Miami for awhile," Bella continues, doing a much better job ignoring Tia than I am. "Great town. I love Cubam food. Dude," she says, turning to me now. "Have you ever had Cuban food? We have to get you some. You'll fucking die."

I smile at her and rest my hand against her bare thigh. She pushes her hand through my hair before one of my so called friends engages her on a new topic I have no interest in. I am starting to think that this whole evening is a terrible idea. I should have just stayed away from the group thing, but Bella wanted to meet my friends.

And now they are all jockeying for her attention and trying to impress her. Lovely.

Her legs are so damn smooth. This is going to be the longest evening of my life.

"So, Bella," says Randall, his voice smooth and smarmy. I now understand why it has been so long since he has enjoyed female company. "What are you doing with this dweeb? You could have any macho man you want. Me for example."

Bella narrows her eyes at my study partner, and I brace myself for the emergence of mama bear. But then she takes a deep breath, sending me a small smile. "He's more than enough macho for me," she murmurs.

After getting in a fight with Bella over the check that I eventually won, we set out towards the hotel ballroom where the dance is being held. We hang back behind the rest of our group while Bella whisper-yells what she really wanted to say to Randall.

"First, I wanted to call him on his horseshit and declare that we should just go fuck in the bathroom." There is a lot of glaring on my part now and Bella chuckles darkly, grabbing my hand. "It would have been hilarious to see him flip about that one. And then I wanted to go on a rant about how the fuck much of a macho man you really are. But you obviously haven't shared much of yourself with these dudes so I figured you wouldn't like me spouting off that list."

I smile at her anger because as much as she has changed, she's still Bella. I've always admired her toughness, passion, and candor. I'm glad it's still there.

"That's fine, love," I say with a smile. "There is not a lot you could say for that one. I'm not a macho man, although neither is Randall."

Bella stops abruptly, yanking me next to her and I blink down at her in shock. "What?" I demand, totally confused.

"You don't think you're a macho man?" she demands incredulously.

"Come on, Bella," I says with a sigh. "We've had this fight before."

"This isn't a fight," she snaps. I hold back a chuckle because if I laugh at her now, it really will be a fight. "I just… want you to see you how I see you. You are… everything to me, Edward. You always have been. I could list your obvious manly qualities, like your thighs and your protectiveness and such. But the biggest thing that makes you such a good man? The fact that I'm here with you right now."

"But you were the one that came back. I—"

"No," she says, grabbing my jaw and looking at me in earnest. "You are giving us a second chance which is more than I ever even should have hoped for. And the way you are doing it with such grace. You could torture me. You could make me feel like shit. You could punish me for leaving with snide comments and vengeful actions. But you don't. You are so good to me, Edward. And I want to be the kind of person that deserves you. I—"

She turns a little green and stops talking immediately. My heart has been flying out of my chest since the beginning of her little speech. We are having quite the moment here.

"You what?" I whisper, my eyes never leaving hers. I don't even blink for fear I might miss something in her intense gaze.

"I—" Again she stops before throwing her arms around my neck. "I'm so glad I'm here with you right now."

I try not to be disappointed. Apparently this is not the right time for this conversation.

"Me too," I assure her, kissing her temple. Bella pulls away after another moment, shakes out her limbs, and sighs before turning to grin at me again.

"Come on," she says, grabbing my hand and marching us down the street once more. "You promised to take me to a dance. I've never been to one before, don't yah know."

So dance we do, well into the wee hours. When we get home Bella shares my bed. I putter in the bathroom for an obscene amount of time to avoid the temptation of sinking into her beautiful body. I can't decide if I'm horribly disappointed or entirely relieved to find her asleep by the time I emerge. But then she settles her head on my chest when I slip under the covers, and all I feel is contentment.

March, 30 2011

I love him.

Are the words really that difficult to say? I can think them now without to much difficulty but the last time I saw Edward, I chickened out like the fucking whiney bitch I am. Seriously, I was on the brink of saying it and then I just… could. I don't know what happened.

I justified my cowardice by telling myself the moment wasn't right. That the situation was not perfect. Which is, of course, a crock of horseshit. But I will not give myself another excuse to wimp and thus will have to plan the perfect moment. I have no fucking idea what the perfect moment looks like – roses and a fancy diner? I thought I would have two more days to figure it out till Edward arrived for the weekend, but motherfucker had a cancelled class and has surprised me at work.

Jerk.

I love him.

It's still awkward, to even admit to that in my own head, but I know it's true. Truthfully, I've always loved him. I'm finally done fighting it.

I blush like a motherfucking beet every time and feel like I may pass out.

I want to tell Edward. The last few weeks, I feel the words on my tongue, but I chicken out.

Today, Edward is studying at a secluded table in the Laughing Goat. It's near closing, and I know that despite the cold Edward will sit on a bench and wait to walk me home while I shut up the coffee house for the night. The shop is still quite full, even though we are closing soon, there is a blizzard raging on outside, and it's a Friday night.

Stupid bipolar Colorado weather. It was in the sixties when I left for my shift.

Edward is so focused on what he's reading. I've always enjoyed watching him study. I like the way he bends over the book, taps his highlighter against the pages, while his mouth moves soundlessly with what he's reading. Edward absorbs information like a sponge, and it's enthralling to watch.

"Who is that?" the new girl, Molly, demands. She nods towards my love, giving him that look of pure female appreciation. I'm used to this, and though I do get jealous and possessive, mostly I feel proud because he is here for me. Although technically, we aren't together, something I'm trying to change.

"Edward," I say, blushing and smiling as I wipe the counter.

"God, he is so hot!" she says, fanning her face. "Is he your boyfriend? Or is he single?"

Despite my irritation, I can't help but see her point. He looks especially sexy today in a pair of dark brown cords and green hooded sweatshirt. It brings out his eyes.

"Definitely not single," I say, not even bothering to look at my co-worker.

"So are you dating?" she asks again.

"Not technically…" I answer.

"Oh, there is a story there," Molly says, propping her hip up against he counter. "Do tell."

"He's just… my Edward," I reply before running away to clean customer tables as a means of escape.

I wipe the empty tables, making my way to Edward and focusing on how wonderful he is. He's given me everything, so many chances. I want things to be different this time, and I'm pretty sure they already are.

I love him. And I want him to know.

"Edward?" I say when I get to the table right next to his. My hand moves in a circular pattern as I clean, but my eyes are focused on his face. I wonder is if he notices the quiver in my voice.

Am I really about to do this?

"Yes, sweetheart?" He doesn't even look up at me, but I know he's listening. He's a very good listener. And multitasker.

Warmth blooms in my chest just looking at him, and all of a sudden I feel like I can't not say it.

"I love you." My hands don't even shake as the words come out of my mouth to him for the very first time, but I can't bear to look at him so I stare at the now clean table top and keep needlessly wiping.

I can feel Edward's eyes on me, and for a moment it is all too much. I turn abruptly, set on stalking away to get a relief for the excess of emotion, but it doesn't feel right. No more avoidance, I remind myself. I turn back towards Edward. He is gaping at me, his expression half elated, half shocked.

I take a big breath to calm the nausea raging in my tummy and decide not to run away. Walking fast and reaching Edward before I can change my mind, I cradle his jaw in my hands as he gazes up at me in awe.

God, this look on his face. It's a variation on one I've seen before but so much more powerful. I'll do anything to keep this look on his face as often as possible.

He knows I've felt this way about him all along, but my confirmation makes him so obviously happy, I wonder why I couldn't manage to say it sooner. It's so simple really, easy as breathing.

"Always have," I whisper as I lower my lips to his. "Always will."

This kiss is slow and tender and over too quickly, but my heart explodes in my chest anyway. All too soon, I move on to wiping down the next table. Edward doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to because I finally understand what he's been trying to tell me for years.

I love him and he loves me.

I'm completely unsurprised to find Edward in the small Beat Bookshop next to the Laughing Goat after I get off work.

The proprietor, Pat, is a crazy old hippy and holds the oddest hours. He dresses as if the 60s never ended and probably only washes his long, white hair once every two weeks. Pat has known Edward and I since freshmen year, and would probably consider us friends.

Pat is rambling about existentialism as I enter. The shopkeeper sits cross-legged on the glass countertop beside the cash register as Edward leans against a nearby bookshelf. I quickly make my way to Edward side, easily slipping under his arm when I reach him.

Edward hugs me close and kisses my temple as Pat abruptly stops his intellectual lecture.

"Well, Miss Swan," he says, raising an eyebrow at me. "You are looking lovely as usual."

Pat has always had a thing for me. It used to drive Edward crazy, which is ridiculous. Like I would ever choose a lecherous old man over Edward.

Like I would ever choose anyone over Edward.

"Ditto, Pat," I respond with a wink. "I'm diggin' that furry vest."

"Really?" he asks, looking down at the article of clothing. "Would you like it?"

He moves to take it off and I giggle. "No, Pat," I say. "It looks too good on you."

"Tonight you are looking shockingly like a young Faye Dunaway. But I'm sure you get that all this time." I have no idea who he is talking about, but he compared me to many a famous lady, none I resemble in the slightest. I've really lost patience with this conversation. I just need to be alone with Edward. "Anyway, when are you two trying the knot?"

My mouth falls open and my whole body tenses. Holy facking shat! It took me six years to work up the courage to admit that I love the guy. I'm nowhere near ready for marriage.

Edward chuckles at my discomfort and wraps an arm around my head. "We're not quite there yet, Pat."

"So you _are_ a couple," Pat remarks, scratching his bearded chin. "I've always wondered."

"She loves me," Edward says with a smirk as I blush furiously and half-heartedly punch him in the shoulder.

"Obviously," Pat says. "Just as you love her. Now get the fuck out of my shop. All the love is grossing me out."

We wave our goodbyes, and walk down the snowy street hand and hand.

I don't know how to broach this whole love subject, and I am a little bit pissed at Edward for not bringing it up. But Edward can't seem to stop beaming, so that's comforting.

"Pat's gotten crazier," I say as we make our way home in the cold. I don't mind though because Edward is keeping me warm. "I probably should have taken that smelly vest, to seduce you tonight, of course."

I expect him to laugh, but instead he stops and pulls my around to face him.

"Isabella," he croons, grabbing the earflaps of my hat to tilt my face to his. The intensity of the love I see there causes an explosion of the shivers, but also stirs something deeper.

He loves me. He loves me. He loves _me_.

Or at least I think he does. Why the fuck won't he just say it back? It sucks to not hear it back, and I suddenly feel horribly guilty for how I treated him in the past.

"Nothing you could wear would make you less seductive to me. Especially tonight," he continues, gazing at me with that look of wonder that seems reserved just for me.

"Cause I finally told you what you've known all along?" I ask, my breath catching in my throat as I stare into his perfect green eyes.

"Yes," he says with a smile. "It's good to know I didn't make it all up in my head. When you left, you made me felt like a clinically insane idiot."

"I'm so sorry, baby," I say in earnest. I'll never be able to apologize enough for what I did to him. "Thank you so much for never losing faith… in me. In us."

"We don't need to talk about that tonight, love," he says. "The past is in the past."

My heart does funny things in my chest as he smiles down at me with misty eyes, and I like the way the snow swirls around his head. Edward never gets cold and he wears only his hoodie with a puffy vest over it. I hope his hands don't freeze as they hold my hat.

"Are you going to say it again?" he asks after a moment.

"Are you going to say it back this time?" I tease.

"Guess you are just going to have to say it first and find out."

I take a big breath.

"I love you, Edward Cullen," I say, grinning widely. He seems a bit surprised that I complied to his wishes so quickly. I grin back, pleased with myself because each time the words leave my lips, it gets a little easier and my reasons for waiting so long to admit it get a little stupider. It feels so good, letting go of all that irrational fear.

Instead of a spoken reply, Edward uses the earflaps of my hat to pull me in for a searing kiss. He sets me on fire and causes the shivers to explode at the same time. It's been so obscenely long, I'm pretty much ready to mount him right there. We pour everything into that kiss, the love and pain, the fear, sorrow, and joy. I've never felt this connected to anyone. Ever.

He loves me. And I love him. We are actually going to work. The knowledge that everything is going to be okay makes the kiss that much better than any we're ever shared.

Our moment is interrupted by a pair of drunk college kids. I blush as they leer at me, and Edward pulls me protectively to his chest. I've never felt safe like I feel with Edward either.

"Dude, she's hot!" one of them says.

"Get some!" The second tries to give Edward a high-five, but my love just glares at them till they leave.

"And that's the reason I don't let you walk home alone," he mutters. I don't like his frown and he needs to get the happy back.

"The only reason?" I ask, wrapping my arms around his chest, under his puffy vest.

He smiles down at me and shrugs while I go on my tiptoes to get back to his mouth.

"It may also have something to do with all this love I feel for you," Edward replies with a grin.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," I murmured against his lips.

"As I love you," he replies. My heart flops around in my chest. It's the kinda thing that used to have me running for the hills, but now I embrace the feeling. And for once I believe him. "I love you, Isabella Marie."

He kisses me again, and I feel his smile against my lips. He pulls me closer so my feet dangle inches off the ground, and I begin to laugh because everything is just too perfect. Edward kisses my neck, and spins us in a circle as I continue to giggle. The moment and the snow and the love makes me feel like we're residing in some sappy ass romantic comedy I hate.

But I sure as fuck don't hate this.

"What is so funny, Isabella?" he asks, setting me back down in the snow but still keeping his arms around my waist.

"I'm just really happy," I admit, burying my face in his chest to hide my blush.

"I love the way you bite your lip when you are thinking. Or concerned. Or horny."

"I love the way your lips move along with what you are silently reading. It makes me want them on my skin."

"I love the way you cuss like a sailor."

"I love the way you use big words."

"I love the way _you_ use big words."

This has been the state of things for the hours since we arrived home from The Laughing Goat. Declarations of love followed by rather furious sex. Now, Edward and I lay facing each other, a sheet draped over our lower tangled-together limbs. We hold hands between our naked bodies as we stare into each other's eyes, and I don't think I've ever been this happy. Ever.

Even if it is fucking puke worthy in its cheesiness.

"I love this triangle of moles on your breast," Edward continues because I'm grinning too much to speak.

"They are not moles," I huff, glancing down at my naked chest. "Those are totally freckles."

"Rather large for freckles, love," Edward replies with a chuckle. "I love the way your nose gets all scrunched up when your pissed at me but not actually pissed at me."

He is so damn cute I can't help but continue this little game.

"I love the way you look in a sweater. Or a sweater vest."

"I love the way you look in your underwear."

"I love the way you look naked."

He smirks at me now and kisses my nose, indicating that I've won this round.

"I love every little thing about you, Isabella Marie," he confesses. "Always have, always will."

His words please me endlessly, but I am still new to all this feeling ones feelings shit. The enormity of it all still scares me, and I find myself embarrassed and needing to lighten all the heavy happening in here.

"We are nauseating," I scoff, burying my flaming face in his shoulder. "We are one of those sicken happy couples. Gah, we can never do this around people!"

"Speaking of people," Edward says, lifting his head and glancing towards the door. "Why is it so quiet? This house is typically full of fools."

"Emmett has some sort of fancy corporate dinner. Jazz and Alice have something at the high school. They aren't expecting you till Saturday," I explain, reveling in the feeling of his lips against my forehead. Part of me can't really believe we're here. Finally. Thank God.

"Guess that means we don't have to leave this room for two days, huh?" he whispers in my ear, rolling slightly so I find myself under him. I don't even have time to agree before he kisses me again. I feel him hard against my thigh as his tongue dances with mine. My feet settle on the back of his calves, and I like the way his soft hair feels against my toes.

Dragging one hand down his chest and fisting the other in the hair at the back of his head, I palm the smooth head of the wonder cock and smirk to myself when he groans. I love how familiar and good all this feels.

"I love that old age hasn't slowed your speedy recovery time," I tease, nibbling on his earlobe. But then his fingers find me wet and ready and I all my amusement fades. Instead I'm gasping and writhing beneath him.

"I love the way your nipples feel in my mouth." His words are muffles. Probably because my nipple is in his mouth. I whimper as his tongue and finger move in tandem, causing my grip to tighten on his soft bronze locks.

"I love how you tug on my hair when I make you feel good," he continues. I find his speech a little miraculous because I've lost the ability to form words. Again. "I love how you smell."

And then he is inside me, completely filling me up. Edward pauses, just gazing down at me as if he needs a moment to adjust to actually being here with me. I trace my thumbs over his cheekbones because I need to make sure he is really here too. When he finally starts to move with a slow, steady roll of the hips, I meet each thrust and keep my gaze locked with his.

"I love..." I attempt to continue our cheesy little game, but heat is coiling in my belly and sensation takes over my brain. "I love the..." I try again, maybe attempting to complement the look on his face or the way his movements have become more frantic as we near the finish line. "I love..." He reaches down to touch where we are connected and I lose it. "YOU! I love you."

As I tremble beneath him, Edward lets out a deep groan and mumbles something incomprehensible, probably returning my sentiment although it is difficult to say for sure. After a moment he collapses forward, his head finding my neck. Immediately I wrap all my limbs around him, one hand finding his hair while the other strokes his back. We hold each other tightly as we both shake, and I don't give a fuck if he is a wee bit too heavy.

"I love you," he says, planting a sloppy kiss against my jaw.

I fall asleep smiling.

I wake up in the half light of dawn, and it takes me a minute to figure out why I feel so warm and content. But then I realize that a very naked man is pressed up against my back. His fingers are gently coaxing my nipples into hard little nubs. This is what probably what roused in from sleep.

More like aroused. Ha.

I turn in his arms because I don't like not being able to see him, especially tonight. He smiles at me lovingly, one hand moving to run up and down the length of my spine while the other rests against my neck. The way he looks at me makes me dizzy.

"Sorry," Edward murmurs, leaning closer to nibble on my ear. "Didn't mean to wake you."

I giggle at this because he so totally did. "Bullshit! You were fondling my breasts! Of course you meant to fucking wake me."

"I can't believe you said breasts," he says, laughing at me now. "I love your breasts."

"Tits really is much sexier," I mutter. This happy, gooey with love version of myself is kinda freaking me out but I can deal because Edward is right here. He loves me back.

"You aren't going anywhere, are you?" I ask, suddenly feeling insecure again. Edward looks at me with a sad little smile.

"No, Isabella," he says, with conviction. "I was always right here, and I always will be." It makes me love him so much more, that he doesn't throw my departure in my face.

I roll on top of him, laying my naked chest over his. We kiss as we hold each other, but as things progress he cradles my jaw to prevent me from moving.

"You're not going anywhere, are you?" he whispers, his eyes pleading with me. Edward is the insecure one now.

"No," I reply with conviction that mirrors his. "I'm right where I want and need to be."

We go back to proving the validity of our words with our bodies.

"Oohhh," I moan, closing my eyes and throwing my head back. "Oh, baby, please…"

Edward increases the pressure of his tongue on my clit and adds another finger. They curl forward slightly, causing my back to arch off the bed and my fingers to weave through his hair. I glance down, wanting to see him but my view is blocked by a puffy down comforter that is totally covering him.

And I'm close. Really, really close. My toes curl, my stomach muscles tighten, and my heart is hammering out of my chest.

Edward let out a deep groan that seems to run through my body and has my hips bucking off the bed frantically. His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls me as close as possible, and I throw my head back into the pillows.

I close my eyes again, just about there when Alice and Rose slam into the room, arguing about something.

Instant boner killer.

Edward stops his movements, and I bite my lip to hold back my growl of frustration. I do, however, pound the mattress a little and curse my friends in my head. Edward lets out a low chuckle at my antics, and I resist the urge punch him.

Although, I suppose we are lucky this didn't happen earlier. Edward and I have been in this room for the last 24-hours unnoticed. It is kinda a miracle. On a side note, I'm fucking hungry as shit. We snuck downstairs, naked, in the middle last night for snacks, but that was over twelve hours ago.

"I think we should go to Salt. There are more drink options," snaps Rose.

"But think of all the crap they put on those fries at Centro," replies Alice.

"We are going out tonight to get hammered, not eat junk food," says Rose.

"But it's happy hour! Eating is totally expectable at happy hour," Alice counters.

The two shove each other, both trying to enter the room first. They are so distracted by their bickering that I have time to make sure we're sufficiently covered. Edward is covered right down to the tips of his toes, and it looks like I'm in bed alone, sitting up against the headboard with the blanket tucked under my armpits.

"Bella will break the tie," Alice says as they both finally get into my room. "So, where shall we be going for happy hour? Salt or Centro?"

They both turn to look at me at the same time.

Its really hard work to keep my face pleasant, innocent, and you know… not lookin' like I was about to come in my beautiful boy's mouth.

"Well?" demands Alice, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at me.

"I don't care," I reply, my chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Edward moves his head slightly on my lower abdomen, and I tug on his hair, a silent reminder to keep quite. We still haven't made anything official, and as far as Alice and Rose are concerned, we are still just friends.

"Just fucking choose," shouts Rosalie, stomping her foot and huffing in frustration.

"What are we even talking about?" I ask, my head still pretty fuzzy.

"Drinks, tonight?" Alice says. They are both scowling at me, and I really, really just want them to leave.

"Yeah, I don't care. Why don't you continue this argument downstairs and I'll—"

"Why do you always have to be like this, Bella?" yells Rosalie. "So fucking indecisive."

"You are the one with terrible taste in appetizers," snaps Alice. The pair starts to argue again, seeming to forget that I'm there at all.

Edward nuzzles into my crotch, his hands once again tightening on my hips. His tongue darts out to tease me, shocking the shit out of me. I yank on his hair and bite my lip to stifle a whimper.

With his twin in the room. What a naughty boy!

"Bella?" Alice says, interrupting Rose's mid rant. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" I reply intelligently. "Oh, yeah. Suuuper."

My voice is a wee bit breathless and my cheeks are flushed. Edward licks me again, and I stifle a moan as my limbs start to shake.

"Where is your shirt, young lady?" she asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

I shrug in response.

"Holy, fuck," says Rose. "What is wrong with your face? Why are you breathing so heavily?"

"I'm not!" I defend. Except my voice is still wheezy and Edward chooses this moment to gently suck on my clit, so basically all their suspicions are confirmed. They freak the fuck out after that.

"You have a man in here, don't you?" Alice says, her voice low and dangerous. "Bella, whose man clothes are these?"

"Oh, fuck no," says Rosalie before looking under the bed and in the closet. I roll my eyes at her ridiculousness.

I'm all little offended by their assumption that I would be fucking some random at this point in my life. Its moments like this that make me realize just how far I still have to go for that redemption I'm working for.

Alice slaps a palm down on the bed, whacking Edward's calf.

"Ow," he mumbles.

"What the fuck, Bella!" Rose yells, removing herself from the empty closet. "Sorry, dude. But she is totally in love with someone else, despite being a whore!"

Alice doesn't speak, but a smile slowly spreads on her face. She knows what's up, and now I'm a little amused by Rose's freak out.

"Hey!" Edward shouts, popping up from under the blanket while making an effort to keep me all covered up. "Don't call her that!"

"Oh fuck," Rosalie mutters, her eyes going wide with shock.

Alice and I giggle, somewhat hysterically, at the look on her face.

"Hey, little twin," Alice says, looking slightly bashful now.

"Hello, Alice," Edward replies, blushing as he crawls up to sit next to me. He hides his face in my neck, and I stroke his hair as I glare at Rosalie.

"Who the fuck did you think it would be?" I ask her.

"Um, weren't you supposed to be in Denver till tomorrow, Edward?" Rosalie demands, trying to sound tough but really just failing.

"Change of plans," mumbles Edward into my neck. I giggle as his breath tickles me.

"So you two are…" Rose says, gesturing between the two of us.

We nod slowly. It's very rare to see Rose flustered, and I'm really enjoying it.

"And we just…"

"Yup," I say. "Thanks for that, you filthy cockblockers."

"Well, this is awkward," declares Rosalie, inching toward the door.

"A bit, yes," Alice says, mimicking Rose's retreat. "Hey, little twin, where do you want to go for drinks tonight?"

"Get the hell out, Alice!" Edward demands. Alice puts her hands up in surrender, exiting with Rose, and closing the door behind her.

"Emmett!" we hear Rosalie bellow from the hall. "Edward and Bella are fucking again!"

"Were they ever not fucking?" Emmett booms in reply.

"You are such a moron, Emmett Cullen!"

We stay still until the voice of these fools I continue to live with drift downstairs.

"I'm hungry," declares Edward, making no move to detangle himself from my body.

"Yeah? Well I'm horny," I say. Except the little interlude with our friends really made me lose it. Fucking cockblockers. Not that Edward will have any problem getting me back there.

"Right!" he says, sitting up and shuffling down. "One orgasm coming up!" He stops moving to shoot me a crooked grin. "Get it, love? It's a pun."

I giggle for a moment as he moves again. But before he can reach his destination, I grab his face and pull him back so we are laying facing each other.

"No orgasm?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

I shake my head, trying to put my ridiculous thoughts into words. "Did you hear Rosalie tell Emmett that we are fucking again?"

Edward snorts and rolls his eyes. "All of Goss Grove heard Rosalie tell Emmett we are fucking again. We wouldn't want to make a liar out of them so let's—"

"Wait," I say, latching on to his face again to keep him next to me. "Do you think they think we are just fucking?"

"Bella," he says, sighing with exasperation. "You honestly don't expect me to have some great insight into the inter-workings of the insane minds of my neanderthal brother and his wicked witch of a girlfriend, do you? Shit, I would be scared for life."

Again, he tries to move and again, I restrain him. I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack, and I just need a little reassurance. "Love," he says, voice and expression soft now. He strokes my face. "What's wrong?"

"Do you think we are just fucking?" I whisper, feeling like a total idiot that I'm still so scared that he isn't serious about us.

"No, of course not," he replies. Although his words appease me, but they aren't enough all of sudden. "Is that what has you so flustered?" he asks with a laugh.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" I blurt suddenly even as Edward continues to chuckle.

He gapes at me in surprise for a moment, before his face contorts into a frown. Yeah, definitely not the reaction I was expecting.

"That's cool, if it's too soon to be declaring anything or if you want to take it slow I completely understand. I made you wait years, and I've only had to wait four months so that's cool. I don't mind waiting. I'd wait forever for you—"

Edward interrupts me mid ramble by covering my mouth with his palm. Bless him. I sounded like an idiot.

"No," he says, chuckling at me softly. "I was just under than impression that we were more serious than that. Boyfriend doesn't seem to cover it."

I laugh loudly in relief before snuggling closer to him. Finally, I start to feel secure in our relationship. I didn't forever damage it. We are going to come out of my fuck ups stronger. "What would you prefer I introduce you as? Everyone, this is Edward Cullen my soul mate."

Blushing slightly, he grins at me.

"Or maybe my man? Love of my life, fire of my loins?"

"Are you really quoting _Lolita_ at me, Isabella?" he asks, shaking his head slightly. "Pedophilia is _so_ romantic."

"Shut up!" I say, punching him in the shoulder. "You know its so much more than that. Nabokov is a genius. And for another thing—"

Edward kisses me quickly, making me forget all about the literary rant about to burst forth from my lips. He pulls away only after I'm sufficiently dazzled.

"I'll be your boyfriend," he says, smiling. "If you'll be my girlfriend."

"Deal."

* * *

**How long did it take you to say I love you? Bella's pretty silly huh?**

**Not what a lot of people expected, I'm thinking, but these to always do their own thing.**

**Thank you.**


	28. Announcements

**Thank you for reading/review/recing/favoriting.**

**Not mine**

* * *

May 3, 2011

EPOV

"Hey!" Bella says, sliding in to the booth next to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. She smells like coffee and Bella and pine trees. "You're here!"

"I told you I was coming up tonight," I reply, keeping her close to my body even after she breaks the hug. "But before you get too excited, I have to go back after dinner."

"I know, I know. I'm just happy to see you. It has been ten whole days, Edward," she scolds.

"Finals are next week, love," I say, wishing I could spend more time with her. Although being thirty miles away all year has been difficult, it is basically unbearable now that we are back together. Now that we are finally happy. Although her words of love did not magically fix our entire relationship, they go a long way in healing my wounds and convincing me that Bella really isn't running away from us anymore. She is serious about us. "This time of the year is so much worse than it was in undergrad."

"I get it," she says. "I just miss you. That's all."

"I miss you too," I assure her, kissing her quickly. "In another week, I'm all yours."

"Goodie," she says with a smirk, pulling my face towards hers.

It's shocking really, that after all this time the shivers remain unchanged. My need for her and my reaction to her kiss is as strong as ever. It is all consuming, and I pull away before it can become any more intense.

"Honestly, I'm surprised that you are here at all," Bella says after we separate.

"Alice insisted," I explain. She nods in understanding. My sister is very persuasive.

'That's weird," Bella muses. "It was Emmett that demanded I have work off tonight. He said he has a big announcement. He also told me to make sure you knew about it."

"That is weird," I agree. "Alice has an announcement too. And she seems damn excited about it. Plus she told me to tell you. Usually she is more organized than that."

"What the hell do the two of them have planned?" Bella asks. Her brow furrows and I smooth it out with my thumb.

"Probably something terrible that we will want no part of," I reply, thinking about kissing her again. But that is probably unadvisable being as I have to go back to Denver the moment dinner is done. Bella will kill me if I get her all worked up and don't deliver.

"You really aren't spending the night?" she asks with a pout. It's a little creepy that we are so firmly on the same wavelength.

"I have a final review session early tomorrow morning. You could come back with me?" I suggest.

Bella shakes before the words even leave my mouth. "Can't. I am meeting Rufus at nine."

Bella has been tutoring Rufus at the library for the last couple weeks and seems to be really enjoying volunteering. I am happy that she is getting such joy out of doing good in the world, but it certainly complicates our already busy schedules. I hate not living with her. I hate leaving her here in Boulder and I hate watching her leave me in Denver.

"Don't be sad," Bella whispers, kissing me quickly. "One week. Remember?"

Alice and Jasper arrive a moment later, giggling and hanging all over each other, cheeks flushed like they just did it. I don't care if they are married. She is still my sister and that's gross. Also, it made them late and that is just rude.

"Damn, you guys are awfully smiley," observes Bella.

Alice squeaks and babbles incomprehensibly, clapping her hands and being nauseatingly adorable. It is about a million times more Alice than normal. Bella and I both gape at her in concern, but Jasper just smiles lazily.

"Are you okay?" Bella asks, leaning as far away from Alice as possible as if Alice's over the top behavior is something contagious.

Alice nods enthusiastically and lets out some more sounds that don't come even close to actual words.

"We'll explain when Rose and Emmett get here," says Jasper still looking all smug and self satisfied.

Bella and I share puzzled looks. Something is definitely up and apparently Jasper is in on it too. Why are Bella and I the only couple left in the dark?

Ah, couple. I like that word.

We order a round of drinks but Alice's gets an Arnold Palmer. This is highly suspect, and I think I've figured out what's going on.

But then Em and Rose arrive and I get confused all over again.

"Good," Emmett says, dragging Rose behind him and sitting down quickly. "You're all here. I don't think I could wait another fucking second for my announcement."

"Our announcement, Emmett," Rose says with a scary big smile. "It's our announcement."

"Wait," Bella says, looking back and forth between the two couples. "I'm confused."

"I didn't realize you were so slow," says Rosalie dryly. "We have an announcement." Rosalie enunciates the vowels and uses exaggerated hand gestures. Bella just rolls her eyes.

"No," I put it. "I am confused too. The four of you have an announcement?"

"What?" asks Emmett. "This has nothing to do with those two."

"I can't believe you have an announcement too," Jazz sputters. "Don't you go stealing our thunder. This is our special announcement dinner."

"What? This is _our_ special announcement dinner," Emmett snaps back, glaring.

"What the crap is going on?" Bella whispers in my ear.

"Dunno," I reply, watching the two other couples argue about whose announcement dinner this really is. "The crazies are out in full force today apparently."

"Your announcement can't be nearly as good as our announcement," Alice yells, poking a finger into Emmett's shoulder. Things are getting violent, and I should probably step in at some point.

"There is nothing that could fucking top our fucking announcement," counters Emmett.

"It doesn't even matter. This is our announcement dinner so you can just shut the fuck up!" yells Alice.

"Oh, don't even go there you demon pixie!" Em yells right back. "I organized this shit."

"Hell the fuck no you didn't!" says Alice. Bella and mine heads bounce back and forth between my siblings, making me feel like I'm watching tennis. "I did. Isn't that right, Edward?"

"Well, you did call me," I agree. "But Emmett told Bella."

"Didn't Jasper talk to you Emmett?" Alice says, ignoring me completely.

"Totally did, darlin'," says Jazz, looking pretty amused by the situation. "Remember, Em? The other day when I was like we should go to dinner Thursday and you were like, yeah I was already planning on it. I'm glad you already know about it."

"I think we may have been talking about the same dinner while not talking about the same dinner," muses Em.

Alice looks like she is about to explode so I step in. "There has obviously been a mix up, but I think we just need to take a moment to appreciate that it has been months without news and now we have two bits of dinner worthy news so that's got to be a good thing, right?"

Everyone but Bella glares at me.

"Yeah, the two of you getting back together was definitely not dinner worthy," says Rose. I want to reply but Bella cuts me off.

"Okay, you are all fucking ridiculous," she says. "Just make the announcements already. The suspense is killing me."

"I want to go first," says Alice.

"Not fair!" yells Emmett. "I want to go first."

Lordy, they are children.

"I called it." I am a little surprised that Alice doesn't stick her tongue out at Emmett.

"Fine. My news is better so it deserves an intro," says Emmett with a smirk, leaning back in his seat. Alice looks livid and turns red.

"Our news, Emmett. Our fucking news," says Rosalie. She really doesn't sound as bitchy as she normally does. Which is weird.

"I changed my mind and demand to go second," Alice says primly.

"You are such a little spoiled brat!" yells Emmett, completely losing it. "I am going second."

"We, Emmett," says Rose.

"I want to go second!" Alice declares.

"Aw, fuck no—" Emmett starts, only to be interrupted by Jasper.

"We're pregnant," Jasper finally says.

"We're getting married," Rosalie finally says.

There is silence for a moment before complete pandemonium ensues. Everyone starts yelling and congratulating at the same time. Hugs and tears and handshakes are exchanged. Rose and Alice cry. Smiles pretty much explode off the faces of everyone seated at the table. It takes a full fifteen minutes and a request from the waiter to calm us down. But he brings us a round on the house when we explain the situation.

"Holy fuck nuts," murmurs Bella eloquently. "Everyone is so grown up. You guys gettin' hitched. You guys havin' a wee one. Just… damn."

"I know right!" says Alice.

"You are going to be such a good mom," says Rosalie wistfully.

"You are going to be such a beautiful bride," replies Alice.

"You better not get too crazy with pregnancy hormones to help me plan my wedding," continues Rosalie.

Alice squeaks with the realization that she once again gets to go all crazy wedding planner on us. Lord, the pair of them are going to be unbearable for the next few months.

"Oh my god," Alice says, eyes glowing in a way that thoroughly alarms everyone else at the table. "There are so many things to plan. Baby shower. Bridal shower. Bachelorette party. Wedding. And a nursery to decorate. And names to pick out. And—"

Jasper cuts her off with a lazy kiss.

"Thanks," she says when her husband pulls away. "Kinda lost it there for a minute. Oh, and by the way. We're kicking you all out."

"What?" Bella asks.

"You have seven months to find a new place to live," Alice replies. "The sooner the better because I gots to get to decorating."

Bella glances at me, blushing when I smile at her. Already I am scheming on ways to insure that she ends up in my apartment. I make a mental note to ask Ben the next time I see him. "Okay," Bella says.

After dinner and a few too many drinks, Bella walks me to the bus stop. I kiss her neck and lean on her shoulder heavily.

"You are drunk, Edward Cullen," she says, giggling as we stumble in the general direction of the depot.

"And you smell nice," I reply. "Quite the night, huh?"

"Yup," she replies, sighing wistfully. "'Bout time on both fronts I say."

"Does it make you… sad?" I ask as we finally get to the depot and sit on a bench to wait for the B line.

"Kinda," she murmurs in reply, closing her eyes and laying her head on my shoulder as I wrap my arms protectively around her. "But mostly I'm just jealous. I want that for us."

"You do?" I ask, still surprised that she is so willing to admit this to me. Maybe one day I will get used to her openly wanting a future with me, but I doubt it. "Should I propose? 'Cause I could."

Bella blushes and giggles into my neck, pretty much completely losing composure. "No. Definitely not. You're in med school and I'm trying to figure out what to do next career wise and we don't live in the same city and we've only been back together for like ten seconds. We aren't there yet, baby."

"And a baby?" I whisper into her hair, holding her tighter.

Bella is quiet for a long time before answering. "Not quiet there yet either," she replies, kissing my neck and making me shiver.

"Someday?" I ask, hopeful.

"Someday," she confirms.

We sit in silence, just absorbing as much of each other as we can until my bus comes and takes me away.

"How are you going to get home!" I yell suddenly, disrupting the peace and making a half asleep Bella jerk in my arms.

"What?" she asks, her voice slurring with sleep and alcohol.

"When the bus comes, you are going to be here all alone," I continue, babbling a bit. "I don't want you to walk home alone what with the hooligans and the hoodlums and the generally bad guys prowling around the streets this late at night."

"It's like seven blocks. And it's only like nine o'clock. And where the hell do you think we live? Fucking Compton?" she asks, rolling her eyes at my over protectiveness.

"I still don't like it. You're going to have to come to Denver with me. It's the only solution. You can be back in Boulder by nine tomorrow morning, easy," I say, getting a little desperate at the prospect of our coming separation. I get nauseous when a bus turns into the depot.

"What time is your study group tomorrow?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Six-thirty," I say with a grin, kissing her temple because I know she'll cave.

"Okay," she says, pulling me up from the bench and towards the bus as she rummages through her bag for her bus pass.

"Okay," I reply, grinning like the crazy in love fool I am.

May 11, 2011

BPOV

"I am assuming this goes in the to charity pile. Can you even give this to Goodwill? What a thing to get a tax deduction for." Edward, sitting cross-legged on the floor among piles of crap, holds up the object in question for my inspection.

"We are not donating my favorite bong to charity," I reply with a grin from my seat on the bed where I am folding and boxing clothes. The closet is now completely devoid of occupants, and I am amazed that Edward left so much shit behind when he moved to Denver two years ago.

There have been many trips down memory lane as we unearth objects from our past. It's nice, focusing on the good times and the laughter for once instead of the shit I pulled.

"I'm sure it has been done before," he continues, running his fingers over the smooth glass and holding the bong up to the sunlight to give it a more through examination. The colors are reflected on his cheeks. "This is Boulder."

"No," I say, shaking my head and chuckling at him.

"Well, what do you want to do with it?" he asks. "Surely it is not worthy of making the move, nor do I think Alice and Jasper really want it left in their nursery."

"But it's so pretty," I say, abandoning my folding and shuffling to the end of the bed to get closer to Edward.

"You're so pretty," he counters, flashing that crooked smile. "Actually, that is blasphemy. You're so beautiful."

I blush like a motherfucker. "Aw shucks," I mutter as he brushes a quick kiss across my lips. We both know if he deepens the kiss we will never get all this packing done. We have been distracted three times already today and it's not even noon.

Between the reminiscing and the sexing I might never move in with him. And I _really_ want to move in with him.

Some may say we are moving too fast, but we've waited for fucking ever for the happily ever after.

"But seriously," he says, clearing his throat as he pulls away. "Which pile?"

"I am serious. I like the colors." My fingers trace the bright swirls of blue, yellow, purple, and green. "Can't we use it as a vase or something?"

Edward simply raises an eyebrow at me.

"Fine," I say with a huff. "I'll give it to Jake. It wouldn't go with the décor of your apartment anyway."

"Our apartment," he corrects before continuing his sorting.

My insides do a little dance of joy at the term. "Maybe I'll give the bong to Ben as a thanks for taking me in."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that," he says with a snort.

"I love you," I murmur, running my hand through his hair. He closes his eyes and hums in pleasure before turning to scowl at me.

"Don't you start with that again," he lectures. "You keep talking like that and we are never going to get you moved to out of here."

He is absolutely right. We are making very little progress, but he looks so damn fuckable with his glasses and gym shorts and bare feet. Plus he is all mine. Mine, mine, mine.

Aw, fuck it.

I yank his head towards mine, attacking his mouth, and it's a while before we get back to the packing.

May 19, 2011

I wake up obscenely early for someone who spent the majority of the christening our bedroom. It's not like we haven't done it in here before, but then it was just Edward's bedroom and now it's ours. The two of us, the both of us, together.

I figured out a while ago that home for me is where ever Edward is, but it is nice to finally live with him officially. Inhabiting the same space is not foreign to us. For the better part of three years we basically lived together, but I was too fucking messed up to recognize that. Then, I thought home was a lost concept. But it was here with Edward all along.

Again, I'm so fucking thankful that I didn't lose him permanently.

I lift my head from Edward's naked chest, propping myself up on a elbow to get a good look at him. I place feather light kisses on each of his eyelids, being careful not to wake him. Part of me wishes his eyes would blink open, but I know he is working late at the hospital tonight, and he needs his sleep after the night we had.

Actually, it's more like the week we've had.

Edward asked me to move in with him the morning after our friend's big wedding and baby announcements. He finished with finals a week later and it took us another week after that to get all of our crap to Denver or Goodwill. He would blame me for the constant sex breaks, but I blame him for being so damn fuckable and mine.

Now I admire the way the morning sun makes his hair shine. I push my hand though it and he lets out a sigh in his sleep, his arms tightening around me. I give myself five minutes to enjoy his proximity before the temptation to rouse him from sleep becomes too much.

Pulling on his discarded t-shirt and a pair of purple leggings, I quietly exit the bedroom. I mean our bedroom.

I like term "our".

Coffee is brewing and Angela is sitting at the kitchen table when I emerge. I kiss her cheek before moving to pour myself a cup.

"Morning," she says without glancing up from the paper spread out before her.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" I ask, sitting across from her and stealing the Arts and Leisure section. Normally Ange is out of here by seven on the dot and it is now closer to eight.

"Teachers get summer vacations too, remember?" she says with a grin.

"Ah yes. In that case why the fuck are you up so early?" I demand, smiling when my old friend lets out a chuckle.

"The kids may be gone but I still have to go in for the rest of the week and close out everything for the summer. Which means I don't have to be there at the ass crack of dawn," Angela explains. She folds up her section of the paper and leans back in her seat, smirking at me now. "And I should be asking you why the fuck you are up so early, after the night you had."

I blush and gape at her. "You heard all that! I'm so sorry, Ange. I thought we were being quite. This has never happened before and it won't again. I'm so—"

"I'm just fucking with you," she interrupts, still grinning. She certainly curses a lot for someone who hangs out with kindergarteners for a living. "We can't hear anything from our room, but when I went to the bathroom at like three in the morning I got quite the show. For a minute I thought I was having some sort of bizarre dream."

I am suddenly very thankful for the lay out of this spacious apartment. A shared bathroom separates the two bedrooms and apparently creates some sort of noise barrier. Still, I'm embarrassed. It's damn cool of Ben to let me move in to his apartment and I want to be the best roomie possible. I don't want him to regret his decision.

"It was no dream," I say, recovering slightly. "And if it was I never want to wake up."

Angela giggles before moving to pour herself another cup of coffee. I'll have to brew more so there is a fresh pot for Edward when he gets up.

"So what are you doing today?" she asks, rejoining me at the table. "Do you work?"

"Nope," I say, glad that I don't have to commute to Boulder today. I'm still working at the Goat till I can find something closer to home. "I actually have an interview with this electronic newspaper this afternoon and then I'm tutoring this evening. It's going to be a lazy morning."

"You should meet me for lunch," Angela says a little to casually.

"Alright," I reply. "Just you?"

"Well, no," she replies, looking guilty now. "I'm actually meeting Tia."

"Tia, Tia?" I ask, shocked. "Edward's Tia?"

I can't believe that phrase just left my mouth, and I grimace, offended by my own wording. Angela looks at me with a combination of sympathy and amusement, as if she knows just what I'm thinking.

"She's my friend," Angela continues as if I didn't just say something horrible. "And she is actually a pretty cool girl."

"I don't know…"

"She is going to be around from now on," Angela continues, her voice getting all schoolmarmish as she scolds me. "You might want to try and get along with her. For Edward's sake. It would make things easier on all of us if you and Tia found something to bond about."

"What? Like how we are both in love with my boyfriend?" I snap.

"Yeah, that's a good place to start," Angela replies, nodding sagely. I glare at her and she giggles at my expression. "I think Tia is over that now. It has been months since you came back and she found out about you. Give the girl a little credit."

"Fine," I reply with a huff. "I'll go to your fucking lunch."

I'm reading a book on the balcony in the sun when Edward finally gets up. He stumbles through the sliding glass door, yawning and rubbing his bleary eyes as he collapses at the foot of my lounge chair. I smile and open my legs, allowing him to lean back against my chest. I discard my book and wrap my arms around his shoulders.

"Morning, sweetheart," I murmur in his ear. He lets out a groan and turns slightly to wrap his arms around my waist. I hold back a giggle because he is always so grumpy when he wakes up. My man is so not a morning person. "I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

He nods against my shoulder but doesn't open his eyes.

"Do you want me to get you some?" I offer, already moving to get up but Edward's arms tighten around me.

"Later," he mutters. Tenderness and love bloom in my chest as I run my fingers through his hair and smile down at him with affection. Little things like this truly make me see how much he loves me. I'm better than coffee to wake up to.

We sit in silence. If I didn't know better I would think that Edward had fallen back asleep, but he just takes awhile to wake up. The morning is still cool, but that is sure to change as the suns get higher in the sky. I look over the bustle of the city to the blue mountains in the distance. They seem so far away, but I find their presence soothing anyway. After being a drift for so long I feel grounded again.

"I like waking up to you," Edward says after sometime. "Even if you weren't in our bed, you weren't far."

"You have no idea how hard it was to not wake you up this morning," I reply, brushing a brief kiss over his eyelids.

"I wouldn't have minded," he claims, causing me to snort a little.

"It was seven fucking thirty," I say. "You would've killed me."

After grinning up at me for a moment, Edward tugs my (his) shirt up to expose a tit. He leans over at places a kiss on my hardening nipple. "I wouldn't have minded if you made it worth my while," he whispers, actually waggling his eyebrows at me.

"Edward!" I shriek, pulling my shirt down. Except somehow his head ends up under the baggy fabric and he continues to torment my chest with hands, tongue, teeth, and lips. "We are outside! In the broad daylight."

"Don't care," he mumbles against my skin.

"What about your neighbors?" I demand. Edward shifts so his weight is directly on top of me.

"Working." We have a little tussle as Edward attempts to get me – and half of him – out of the loose shirt I wear. I don't put up much resistance, especially after he grinds the hard wonder cock into me. My eyes flutter closed and my breathing picks up as I forget why I'm fighting this at all. Somehow my shirt disappears.

Edward's movements become a whole lot less frantic after I start responding. He kisses me languidly, tilting my head for better access with his large hand along my jaw. Our hips lock in to a steady rolling motion as we continue to kiss. Right on this fifth floor balcony for the whole world to see. We are both panting when Edward pulls away, looking down at me with bright eyes as his chest heaves.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs, dragging one hand down the length of my body, from my neck to my bare chest and stomach. His hand trails a line of heat even as it travels down my legging clad thigh before it tightens around my calf to hitch my leg around his waist.

I've gotten slightly better at accepting compliments, but I blush anyway, right down to my chest. Edward smiles as if this was his intention when he spoke. Which is probably true. My man is such a schemer.

I lock my ankles behind his back, pulling him closer, when a car horn blares below us and forces us to remember where we are. And although it is fucking doubtful anyone can see us from the street, there is an office building made of windows across from us.

Edward lets out a frustrated huff before standing and pulling me with him. He tosses me over his shoulder, fucking cave man style. I squeak in surprise as he basically runs inside, not even bothering to close the sliding glass door behind us.

I giggle at his desperation as I push at the waistband of his boxes. They fall down to his calves and he steps out of them without even tripping. I give his glorious ass a little smack, and I get a little cross-eyed as I try to take him in upside down.

I expect Edward to turn towards our bedroom but instead I find myself dropped unceremoniously on our small kitchen table instead.

"Edward," I breathlessly admonish. "This is the table. We eat things here."

"Exactly," he says with that crooked grin that never fails to absolutely melt me before pulling my tights clean off my body. His mouth is between my legs before I even have a moment to really understand what is happening.

It doesn't take me long to get it though.

Thankfully, he doesn't dally. He gets right down to business, and I pull him up by his hair when I'm on the brink. It's all too much, and I want him inside me when I come. Edward, understanding what I need as usual, kisses me hard and quick before abruptly flipping me over onto my stomach and pushing into me with one, quick thrust.

We both gasp at the sensation. I feel him so deeply within me it makes me a little dizzy. Edward pauses for a moment, giving us both a moment to adjust, before tilting my hips and pounding into me, slow and steady.

I'm hot, my skin slick and burning. Edward moves between my legs and touches my hips, but I feel him everywhere, both in my body and soul. As much as I love the depth and sensation this position provides, I want more contact. I want to see him.

As if he can read my mind, Edward leans forward, pressing his slick chest to my back. One of his hands moves my hair to the side to kiss the sensitive skin behind my ear while the other reaches around to where to are joined.

I actually whimper at the sensation, reaching back to hold the hair at the back of his neck, and his pace becomes more frantic.

"You feel so good," he groans in my ear, his breath against my skin. "Come fore me, Isabella."

And then I do, shattering completely around him with his name on my lips. He follows moments later, babbling incomprehensibly and collapsing forward. Except our balance on the tabletop is precarious and he slides to the floor, bring me with him. I end up on top of him, my head rising and falling with his chest as we both come down from our high and our breathing settles. I like to feel the weight of him after, but this is pleasant too. The air of the fan cools my damp skin, and I snuggle even closer to Edward as he plays with my hair.

"Welcome home, love," he says. I feel his sentiment all the way down to my bones.

It is very reluctantly I leave Edward at home to meet Angela and Tia for lunch. We go to a little Thai place just off the 16th Street Mall. It's not too far from Edward's apartment – I mean our apartment – and I enjoy the walk even if the day is hot. I wear a little black halter and even smaller black shorts. I'll have to change before my interview and I dread putting on business casual attire.

Almost as much as I dread this fucking lunch. Stupid, fucking, persuasive Angela.

Edward didn't say much when I told him about my plans. He just looked at me for a long time like he was trying to see into my brain, kissed me soundly, and told me to behave myself.

I told him I always behave myself and he had the gall to laugh.

When I get to the restaurant I spot Tia sitting alone in a booth, reading something. Angela is late. I left the apartment later than I should have just to avoid this situation, and I have a suspicion that Angela planned it this way.

Cursing my friend violently in my head, I trudge over to Tia and slide into the booth across from her. She jumps and looks at me with wide-eyed shock.

"Sup," I say with a head nod.

"Hello," she says with caution. "What are you doing here?"

Shit. Fucking Angela didn't even give the girl a heads up.

"Angela invited me," I reply, trying not to scowl at Edward's friend. This situation is not her fault and I try to reserve my anger for Angela. "Didn't she let you know?"

"No," Tia says primly, neatly tucking her reading material into her book bag. "She failed to mention anyone would be joining us. Where is she anyway?"

"Fuck if I know," I mutter.

We lapse into uncomfortable silence, and I fiddle with my sunglasses as I attempt to figure out how to alleviate the awkward.

"This is ridiculous," Tia says with a huff.

"Yeah," I agree. "I hate it when people are late."

"Well, yes that too. But I meant this is ridiculous." She gestures between the two of us. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Her abruptness startles me almost as much as the question itself. I've always seen Tia as a shy, weak little thing and I find myself begrudgingly respecting her backbone.

"I don't hate you," I mutter, feeling uncomfortable. "Why do you hate me?"

Tia lets out a big sigh and her shoulders drop. The slight hunch in her typically perfect posture makes her seem more human to me.

"I don't hate you either," she replies. I raise an eyebrow in skepticism. "What? If you can lie, so can I."

I let out a sharp little chuckle at that and can't help but smile. "Fair enough," I say. "But I wasn't totally lying. I don't hate you. I just find it difficult to be cordial to a lady so totally against my relationship with the love of my life. Plus, you like him too much, yah know?"

"Well, that makes sense," she responds, looking thoughtful. "But I don't like him too much anymore. Actually, I don't think I ever really did."

"What do you mean?" I ask, completely confused now.

Again, Tia lets out a heavy sigh. "You were right," she begrudgingly admits.

"I was?" I ask, completely shocked by this statement. "About what?"

"I didn't really know him," she says, looking sad. "Not really. I still don't. I see now that he never let me get close enough for that. He is smart and a good listener and I mistook that all for love."

I nod, a little dazed that we are actually having this conversation.

"He is my friend," she continues. "There is no one I would rather study with and I enjoy spending time with him, but I don't feel that way anymore. It's amazing how different he is now that you are back."

Again, there is more head nodding on my part because I really don't know what to say.

"He is a whole new person," Tia muses. "I didn't get how miserable he was until I saw how happy he is now. How could I hate the person that makes my friend so happy?"

"You mean me?" I squeak, feeling like a moron.

"Yes," Tia says as if she would rather admit anything else. "I would never even think to talk to someone like you if I met you under different circumstances."

"Like wise," I mumble.

"I find you very intimidating," she confesses, looking about as uncomfortable as I feel.

"No shit?" I say, genuinely surprised. "I find you fucking intimidating what with your big brain and perfect face and all that."

"Really?" Tia asks, sounding pleased with herself. She touches her face self consciously. "How odd."

And then I laugh, a lot and loudly because the whole damn thing is so ridiculous. Tia actually joins me, even thought I am not totally sure what is so funny. All I know is that it is. Of course this is the moment that Angela finally appears. The people who try to control my life certainly do a damn good job of it.

"Well, I'm glad to see you two getting along," Angela says, sitting next to Tia. "Sorry I'm late."

"Yeah, like you didn't fucking plan it." Angela doesn't even bother trying to look innocent or deny my claim and just flashes this evil little smile. "I'm fucking starving."

Conversation flows easily after we order, and I don't think I'll ever be best friends with the girl, at least I know now that I'm capable of getting along with the people in Edward's life.

May 20, 2011

"I can't believe you talked me into this," I mutter from behind my sunglasses as I allow Rosalie to drag into a poufy little café. The place is decorated in pastels. I hate pastels. This is probably where the Easter Bunny comes to die.

"Stop your bitching," she replies as the hostess – dressed in a light pink button up – leads us to our table in the corner. "I need to get as much help out of you before you up and leave again."

"Rose," I growl, slamming my glasses on to the top of my head. "I don't do that anymore."

"I know," Rose replies with an evil grin. "Is it too soon to joke about it?"

I just roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.

"Why you got to be so cranky, gurl?" Rosalie asks.

"Why do I have to be here at all, bitch?" I counter, causing Rose to laugh.

"Because my mom is out of town and Alice is teaching little kids how to sculpt clay pots and I need all the help I can get from you now that the wedding is happening so soon and you are moving."

Rosalie, finally confessing a terrible girly secret, apparently has always wanted to get married in this beautiful old church downtown. When she called to set this up the day after Emmett purposed she was told they had a cancellation for this August but other than that they are booked for the next two years.

Which is fucking absurd but what Rose wants Rose gets.

It was pretty fucking funny to see the look on Emmett's face when he was informed that he would be getting hitched in less then three months, but it also means that the impossible task of planning this monstrosity of a wedding has been delegated to everyone in Rose's life. Which really fucking sucks.

"I already fucking moved," I remind her, grinning when I think about how great it is to fall asleep in Edward's arms every night.

"Then why are you here so much?" she asks.

"Because I haven't found a job closer to Denver yet," I remind her. "I'm still working at the Goat." Commuting sucks and I still spend the night at the Goss house occasionally, but it's better than living in Boulder without Edward.

"Another coffee shop?"

"Well, hopefully not," I say. "I have a couple interviews set up with small online newspapers. I had one yesterday and it went pretty well. I got a second interview with them."

"What would you do?"

"Write," I reply. "Anything they want me to. It will be like reviews and fluff pieces and shit. If I'm lucky I'll end up with my own column."

"Does this sort of thing pay well?"

"Hell no," I scoff. "But I don't need much. Rent is pretty cheap now that we are splitting it three ways. Plus Tyler has three roommates now, so I have a pretty steady monthly income from Charlie's house. I'll do fine."

"Wow, look at you. Doing what you love. Being with who you love. Who'd have thought it?" Rosalie says with an amused chuckle.

"And look at you," I reply. "Planning your goddamn dream wedding. Who'd have thought you, little miss I will never get married, ever even had a dream wedding cookin' in her noggin'."

"_We're_ planning my dream wedding," Rose corrects with a smirk. I grimace at her when another pastel covered creature sits at our table and starts tittering out an apology for being late. She says fabulous three times and calls Rose "darling" twice by the time she is done, and I can't help but stare at her in all her big haired, perfumed, pasteled glory.

"We just got here, darling. Do not worry," says Rosalie, using that smile and voice she usually reserves for her mother and the country club set. Fuck, this is going to be a long couple of months. What is with the continual use of the term darling? "Bella, this is my wedding planner, Wendy Amhurst."

Wendy turns to study my for the first time and raises an eyebrow at me when she takes in my disheveled, distinctly not country club look. Clothed in a off white Henley pilfered from Edward that I've tied at the waist and a ridiculous short pair of jean shorts, I probably offend her pastel suit wearing sensibilities. I'm probably showing a bit more mid drift than is socially acceptable for such a meeting. Oh well.

"Sup," I say with a head nod.

"Wendy, this is my maid of honor, Isabella Swan," Rose continues. I just roll my eyes at this. Rose is attempting to get Alice and I to fight it out for the coveted roll. Who ever does the best and most wins. This wedding crap must have altered Rosie's brain, because there is no way I am fighting for something I don't really want anyway. She knows me better than this.

Although, Alice gets this scary look in her eye and goes planning crazy when Rose mentions the little contest. So maybe it is solely to manipulate Alice.

"Charmed," says Wendy, her voice sugar coated and giving me a damn toothache. "Now, is that the Longmont Swans?"

Where the fuck does this lady think we are from? The Upper West Side or some shit? Boulder isn't exactly a high society type place.

"Um, no. It's the Fork's Swans actually," I reply, trying not to chuckle. "And please, call me Bella."

"Great," she says. "Let's order and get down to business, shall we?"

The lunch really isn't that bad at first. Mostly I just drink mimosas and eat over priced eggs while the woman talk wedding. The huge binder Rosalie pulls out of her bag freaks me out slightly, and we talk about everything. Well, they talk about everything. And then it is time to figure out my responsibilities as a potential maid of honor.

"What about selecting the wedding invitations?" suggest Wendy to Rosalie because apparently I don't even have a say in this.

"No," replies Rose so quickly it is almost offensive. "Alice is already taking care of that. She is the artist in the family."

Okay, that makes sense and I won't take it personally.

"Well, will you take Bella dress shopping?"

"Maybe," says Rose. "But you see how she's dressed. I'm going to need the opinion of Alice. All I want Bella to do is shut up and wear whatever dress I tell her to wear. I mean, she obviously can't be trusted with her own outfit."

They have a good laugh over this, and I scowl at the pair of them.

"The seating arrangement?"

"Oh no," says Rose, still giggling. "Bella will just slap a bunch of randoms together with no thought what so ever."

There are several more things suggested that I am apparently not qualified to organize until Wendy mentions the bachelorette party.

"I don't know…" says Rose and I finally have had enough.

"Oh come on!" I snap. Both Rose and Wendy jump a little as if they forgot I'm even here. "Who the fuck else is better suited to plan your bachelorette party! Hello! I am the party queen."

"You _were_ the party queen," Rose corrects. "Now that you are back with Edward and all domestic, you are kinda lame. The two of you rarely come when we go out to the bars these days. You are such a home body."

I sputter a bit in disbelief.

Eventually, it is decided that I can plan the fucking bachelorette party. Other than that, Rose has pretty much made me Alice's bitch, which I'm really looking forward to.

"Now," continues Wendy. "We really need to finalize the guest list and invitation decisions by the end of the week because the wedding is ridiculously soon."

"I'm already ahead of you," Rose says, flipping to a page in her binder and handing it to Wendy. "This list is pretty much final."

Wendy nods in appreciation, and I steal the list from her. My eyes bulge out of my head slightly when I take in the insane number of names on the page, at least two hundred. Most people I don't recognize, some names make me smile, yet one I find extremely irritating.

"Victoria?" I ask, interrupting what ever the two are babbling about now. "You are inviting Victoria?"

"Bella," Rose says, narrowing her eyes at me. "Victoria is one of my oldest and truest friends."

"Bullshit," I reply. They haven't been close since junior year of college when Vicky tried to give Emmett a lap dance in front of everyone. Fuckin' funny as shit, but slightly friendship ruining.

"Okay, fine," Rose says, looking guilty now. "She is a cosmologist now and she agreed to do my hair and make up for free if I invited her."

"Are you paying for any of this wedding?" I ask.

"Well, some of it. Bella, she is really, really good at what she does." Rose seems to plead with me.

"Fine, as long as her plus one is acceptable," I reply.

I'm exhausted after lunch, but have to work a whole fucking shift before I can finally go home. To Edward. When I get back to Denver its after nine and it's been a long fucking day. I basically throw open the door to the apartment.

"Honey, I'm home," I declare loudly. But when I enter I am met with only a bemused looking Ben, blinking at me from the couch.

"Watch who you're calling honey!" an irate female voice calls from the kitchen. Grinning, I close the door behind me and flop onto the couch next to Ben.

"Did Angela cook dinner?" I whisper. I try to get a look in the kitchen for a peak at my old friend. Whenever she is over this late she usually cooks dinner, complete with copious amounts of leftovers. For two smart, med school students, neither Ben nor Edward can figure out how to work a toaster so Ange and I try to keep the fridge stocked. Ben nods and rubs his belly as Angela appears with a plate of food. I don't know how she does it. She is probably magic.

"Thanks," I reply. "You know you are my one and only, right, honey?"

She just rolls her eyes at me. "Edward's in the bedroom."

I thank her again for dinner before joining my man in our room and taking my food with me. I've already inhaled half the plate of lasagna by the time I kick open the door.

Edward glances up from his book and grins when I enter. His long frame is laid out on the bed, propped up against the headboard. He wears only his glasses and a pair of boxers to combat the heat of summer, and I take a minute to just look at him and revel in the knowledge that he's mine.

"Hey," he says, smiling crookedly as he sets the book down in his lap.

"Hi," I say, a little breathless. I find my throat suddenly clogged with emotion. This still happens on occasion. It hits me sometimes, how close I was to losing him and how unbelievably thankful I am that he is here now.

"Long day?" he asks, running his hands through his hair and stretching slightly.

Nodding, I sit by his feet and finish my meal.

"Damn, you look good in my shirt," he observes as I take the last couple bites and put my now clean plate on his desk.

I unbutton my shorts and pull them down my hips before stepping out of them and crawling onto my side of the bed. Edward immediately wraps me up in his arms as I lay my head on his chest. I close my eyes, dozing slightly as Edward slips a hand beneath my panties and goes back to his book.

"What're you reading?" I ask when I conjure the energy to work my mouth.

"The Gone Away World," he replies softly, his hand now moving to stroke my lower back. "Nick Harkaway."

"Never heard of it," I say, plucking the book out of his hand and reading the back. "Did you just start it?"

"Yup. It is very bizarre and ignores many scientific laws, but I like it. It sounds like you. The way it's written."

"Well, I'll just have to read it when you're done. Hurry up, will you?"

"Alright, love," he says with a chuckle and a kiss to my temple. I hand the book back to him and he places it on the bedside table. I like the way he keeps me in his arms as he moves rather than letting go. I do have abandonment issues, after all. "How is Rose?"

"Insane. As is Wendy the wedding planner. Apparently I can't be trusted with anything except the bachelorette party. And Rose was even wary about that," I say, closing my eyes again as Edward's hand traces the planes of my back.

"Do you really want more wedding responsibility?" he asks.

"Hell no," I reply. "But it would be nice to know that Rose trusts me to do it. Instead she made me Alice's bitch."

"I'm so sorry, love," Edward says. I can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest, as hard as he is trying to hide it. "That is sure to be a torturous position to be in. Alice in pregnant, wedding planning mode."

"I can handle it," I say.

"That you can. You're sure doing a lot for a woman you recently called a "fire breathing slag conceived in the depths of hell,'" Edward muses. I still don't think he has totally forgiven Rose for keeping my secret for two years of the way she shared it. But he hasn't totally forgive me either I don't think.

"Yeah, you know that's all bullshit," I admit with a sigh. "I really do love that slag."

"You two have such a bizarre relationship," he says.

"Yeah well. It works for us. Although we are fucking eloping when we get married. No wedding is worth all this shit."

"I like that you said when instead of if," he murmurs into my hair, causing me to blush scarlet. Although I am getting better, intense moments of verbalized commitment still freak me out slightly. I am committed to him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. But right now thoughts of the future are too much and I feel the need to change the subject.

"How was your day?" I ask

It feels good for things to be so normal for us. Here we are, cuddling and talking about our days.

"Uneventful," he replies. "It was the usual at the hospital. Nothing to report. I missed you though."

"You just saw me this morning," I say with a giggle.

"I want to be with you always."

"Me too," I reply with a blush and a grin.

* * *

**Questions? Comments? Concern**s?


	29. Being There

**Hi there!**

**I could gush for hours about all the reviews and recommendations and new readers and such, but I think you all would rather me just get on with the next chapter so I'll just say THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH.**

**This chapter got away from me. It was supposed to me two quick scenes but things kinda got out of control. It was going to be a brief little thing before Em and Ro's wedding. Oh well. I like the way it turned out tho, let me know if you agree.**

**This is going to be the last post for a good long while. I'm going to be in Chile (as in SOUTH AMERICA!)until the beginning of August. I'll be far to distracted and computerless to update or write. **

**Since these scenes turned in to their very own chappie, I think there is going to be two more chapters (the next one pretty short) plus an epi. I think. But really, who the fuck knows?**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

June 30, 2011

"I can't believe you're so nervous," I say with a chuckle, holding Bella's hand as we enter DIA through a sliding glass door.

"I'm not fucking nervous," she snaps, scowling at me. Even though I've upset her, she makes no move to remove her hand from mine. "I don't get fucking nervous."

"You're palms are sweaty," I point out, bringing her hand to my lips and giving her knuckles a lingering kiss when she attempts to pull away.

Bella looks like she is going to argue for a moment before her face falls and she lets out a big sigh, snuggling into my side. I lay my arm over her shoulders and try not to be to amused. But I can't help but find her vulnerability endearing, even in its ridiculous.

"They hate me," she mutters, hiding her face in my chest. We stop walking, and I lean up against a railing, facing the area where the train will arrive from the terminal.

"They don't hate you," I reply, tilting her face towards mine with a finger on her chin. I see panic in her big brown eyes, and all I want to do is protect her from any hurt. "They kept your secret, didn't they?"

I get a little pissed at the thought. My mother and I have yet to discuss the fact that she lied to me since last fall and failed to mention that Bella was living in Forks. Whenever I talk to Esme on the phone, she somehow manages to maneuver around my questions. But now she and my father are flying in to help with the wedding. They will be staying for over a month, and I plan on finally having this conversation with my mother.

"What would you have done?" Bella asks, pulling me away from my negative thoughts towards my mom. "If she told you where I was? Would you have come after me?"

"I don't know," I reply with a shrug. My eyes go back to the place where my parents will emerge at any moment. "I haven't really thought about it."

This is a lie, but for whatever reason I don't really want to tell Bella that I would have been on a plane in a matter of hours if I knew where she was. It seems pathetic. A lot about how I acted in the past seems pathetic, but I can't bring myself to totally regret anything because Bella is here with me now.

Still, I've thought through the what ifs. I would have come to her immediately. She wasn't ready then, and the result could have ruined us.

"Bullshit," she says, punching my arm half heartedly. "You think about everything. All you do is analyze the shit out of shit."

The girl really knows me far too well.

"I would have come after you," I confess, running a hand through my hair. "In a damn heart beat. I don't know if it would've been to demand answers or to try to get you back, but I would have been in Washington the very day I found out you were there."

Bella comes to stand in between my legs, offering me a sad little smile. She cradles my jaw and kisses me slowly. Even now her proximity has my heart shuddering in my chest.

"Than she did the right thing," Bella says, lacing our fingers together. "I'm glad she didn't tell you because I wasn't ready."

"I know," I say. This time I mean it.

"I needed to figure it out on my own," she continues.

"Figure what out?"

"Figure out that you are it for me," she says with that blush that has become more frequent since she started admitting her feelings. "I had to face a lot of demons so it took a while, but I needed to figure out on my own that we are meant to be."

"Meant to be, huh?" I say, pulling her closer by drawing her hands up and placing them on the back of my neck. My arms circle her waist.

"Shit," she says with a groan. "I sound like such a fucking chick. A mushy ball of goo. I don't know why you put up with me."

I like that she doesn't take back her earlier statement.

"I like you a mushy ball of goo," I whisper in her ear. She trembles slightly. My proximity affects her as much as hers affects me. "I like you nervous to see my parents. I like you finally admitting that forever for us in inevitable."

"Aw shucks." She hides against my neck again. This is her new phrase that indicates to me that she has pretty reached capacity on the lovey dovey stuff. I beam and kiss her forehead.

"I love you," I tell her. God, I love saying it. I love that she lets me. I love that she believes me. I love that she loves me back.

"Thank all the various deities for that," she replies. "Suriously. Don't know what I would do if you ever stopped."

"That is one thing you won't have to worry about," I reply with a chuckle. "Not even your abrupt little departure managed to change that."

I was hoping to make her smile, but instead Bella grimaces and looks very upset. Shit, I didn't mean to make her feel bad.

"Bella—" I start. But of course this is the moment that my parents emerge, waving excitedly, calling my name, and rushing towards us. Bella shakes her head and gives me a small smile before turning to face my parents and putting space between us.

I suppose I'll have to figure out how to fix that later.

"Edward!" Mom shouts, throwing her arms around my neck. I return her hug and lift her off the ground because I know she likes that. I set her down and move to greet my dad before she can start fussing with me.

"Hey, Dad," I say, giving him a manly hug complete with back slaps. "How was the flight?"

"Oh fine," Carlisle says with a sigh. "Your mother made about six friends. I don't know why she insists on bonding with strangers she will never see again."

"Excuse your father, Edward dear," my mom says, patting unnecessarily at my freshly ironed collar. "He's gotten all grumpy in his old age."

"Who are you calling old?" Dad replies with a laugh. "Grandma."

At the mention of Alice's pregnancy, Esme forgets to even fake anger at my dad. She even gets a little teary eyed before she notices Bella, loitering almost directly behind me.

"Hello, Bella," Esme says. Her smile seems genuine. Although my mother has voiced some concern about the quick progress of our relationship, for the most part she is happy for me. Bella's honesty last fall really seems to have won my mother over.

"Hi, Mrs. Cullen," Bella says with a quiet voice and a slight smile. She is just so adorable when she is feeling shy. It seems like such a contradiction to her normally vibrantly loud candor.

I'm a little alarmed to see that the smile has disappeared from Mom's face, and she is now glaring at Bella intently. What the hell? I thought Esme was on our side, and I try to think of something to say to protect Bella from the wrath of my mother.

"I mean Esme," Bella quickly corrects. "Hi, Esme."

"That's much better," Mom says with a nod of approval. She moves to give Bella a quick hug. My girlfriend looks damn shocked, and the interaction makes me smile. "I'm glad to see you kept your promise."

"Told you I'd be back," Bella replies, smiling at me now. I grab her hand because I don't like not touching her. "Hey there, Carlisle. How goes it?"

Now my dad is hugging her. I remember that Bella used to refer to him as a "hottie." I try not to be jealous because that is just beyond ridiculous. Bella returns to my side a moment later, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, somewhat possessively.

"It's good to see you, Bella," Dad says, smiling warmly. "Let's get going. It feels like we have been living in airports the last couple months."

My parents have been traveling throughout Europe for since Christmas. I hope Bella and I will be able to enjoy our retirement like my parents are. I'm getting ahead of myself with this desire, but I can't help it. I like being able to make plans for the future that positively include Bella.

"Do you think you'll stay in Forks for a while after the wedding?" I ask as the four of us move to the baggage claim.

My parents grin at each other, and I feel like I'm missing something.

"No, I don't see us spending a lot of time in Forks in the next couple of years," says Mom, still grinning. All the smiling is making me a little nervous.

"Right you are, dear," Dad agrees.

"What?" I ask. I don't like not understanding things and I certainly don't understand what they are trying to tell me.

"We are thinking about sticking around a little longer," replies Esme.

"What, till Alice has the baby?" asks Bella. I'm glad that she is as confused as me.

"No, I don't see us wanting to leave right after our first grandchild is born. Do you, Esme?" Carlisle says with a chuckle.

We reach the baggage claim and I've had enough of whatever little game they are playing with us. "Alright, out with it. How long are you staying?"

"Indefinitely," answers my mom with a head nod.

"Indefinitely?"

"Yes, till we damn well feel like leaving," says Dad. "That okay with you?"

"I don't particularly care if it's okay with him," muses my mom. "We have a meeting set up with a real estate agent first thing tomorrow. She is taking us to look at some amazing houses in North Boulder. I though about designing one myself, but it would take too much time. I'll just settle on decorating. I'm thinking of using western, mountainous themes. Maybe some sort of cabin motif."

My eyes bulge out slightly in my shock, and I look down at Bella. She just shrugs and giggles at my expression.

"You are moving to Boulder?" I clarify, still trying to wrap my head around the concept of having my parents so close.

"Yes, we have spent quiet enough time away from our kids. And now that you are all settling down and starting families, we can't just stay on the periphery," says Mom.

"We don't want to be absentee grandparents," puts in Dad.

Bella grins at me and I grin back.

"Fine," I say. "But, Mom, Bella might seriously kill you if you try to get me to chop off my hair every time we see you."

"Murder would put a damper on family functions," Bella adds.

"But really, Edward," my mom says, messing with the ends of my hair by my ear. "Just a little trim would do you wonders."

Bella and Carlisle really laugh at this.

"Welcome to Boulder, Cullen parents," Bella says. "I hope you're ready to join the house of fools."

That night, after dinning and celebrating my parents' impromptu move to Colorado, I find turning my brain off to be impossible. Sleep eludes me, even with naked Bella securely in my arms. Nothing particular plagues me yet I find myself thinking about everything and nothing.

I imagine what it will be like with my parents so close. Maybe this bizarre kinship between my mother and Bella will bloom into something more. Bella has never really known what its like to have a mother. Perhaps she will borrow mine. I don't mind sharing with Bella.

I indulge in a little daydream about our future. We own a house in Boulder. I spend my days at the hospital while she writes. At night we enjoy our children – in my head there are about eight of them and they all are mini Bellas – and each other.

I think about where we will be in two years when I finish med school. After that, I have my internship and residency to complete. That could take me anywhere. It is hard to not be scared that Bella might not follow me. This is her home and she is just now figuring out what she wants to do with her life. She has a new job, writing opinion pieces for an online publication that has a small yet dedicated following in the greater Boulder/Denver area. On top of that, several of her fiction pieces have been published in various literary magazines. She has the beginnings of a successful career. How could I ask her to give that up?

Although technically she can write anywhere.

I beam with pride at the person Bella is now and the person she inspires me to be too.

I seriously consider waking her up with my mouth on her, but we both have to work in the morning. Plus, she just looks so beautiful and soft in sleep I would feel too guilty waking her.

I worry about the upcoming semester, and how my extended family will treat Bella when they fly in next month for the wedding. I wonder what Alice will name her child. I go back to studying Bella's naked form. She looks so young and innocent when she sleeps.

When the temptation to wake her and my general frustration at being unable to fall asleep become too much for me to handle around three am, I get up. After slipping on a pair of soft sweats and pouring myself a tumbler of scotch, I sit on the balcony off the living room. The night in Colorado provides a much needed relief from the scorching heat of the day.

For whatever reason, being outside helps me settle. Though my brain is still working much more than I would like, my thoughts come slower. I think about the pain I put on Bella's face when I mentioned her absence today. I suppose it's too soon to joke about it. In fact, I have no desire to joke about it even if I have let it go.

I think about how wonderful things are right now with Bella, and find myself drifting.

The lights in our apartment are abruptly flicked on, and I'm startled from my half sleep. I'm not totally sure where I am.

"Edward!" Bella is shouting my name in panic, and my heart drops. I immediately conjure visions of robbers and ax murders.

"Bella?" I call back, jumping to my feet and preparing to come to my maiden's rescue. Except in my haste to get inside, I trip over a side table. Although I flap my arms for a moment in an attempt to stay upright, I go down like a sack of potatoes.

My ridiculous fall is hard enough to knock the wind out of me, and I just lay on my back for a moment, once again completely discombobulated.

Bella slides open the screen door, staring down at me in bewilderment. All I can do is blink up at her for a moment.

"What's up?" I wheeze when I finally get my breath back.

Bella looks upset. Like on the verge of tears upset. She looks emotionally beaten, not physically threatened, and her stillness at the doorway makes me think I was probably wrong with my ax murder theory.

Bella just shakes her head and continues to look at me.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up off the ground and leaning back on my hands for support.

"Nothing." She is really a terrible liar. Her voice wavers, and again, I fear she might start to cry. I've come to hate it when she cries.

"Bella, love?" I try again. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she squeaks out. "Fuck." She squeezes her eyes closed, places a hand against her heart, and leans against the doorframe. "I need a fucking cigarette."

She makes a move to disappear back inside and that just won't do.

"Bella!" My voice comes of harder and more irritated than I like, but she is really freaking me out. At my unusually harsh tone Bella stops, turning back to face me where I still sit on the floor. She gnaws on her lower lip as tears fill her eyes.

I stand, slower this time so I don't embarrass myself, and open my arms to her. "Come here," I murmur.

She obeys my command with haste and hides her face in my chest, arms squeezing my waist. Her behavior has me utterly baffled, and I move us backward to the lounge chair on which I was dozing.

I hold her against me, and she shudders in my arms, but thankfully does not cry. I kiss her temple and stroke her hair, my mind back to going a million miles a minute once again as I try to figure out what could possible have happened to upset her so in the hour since I left our bed. She was fine this evening, smiling and happy. Our lovemaking was silly, full of laughter.

What the fuck is going on?

"Bella," I say, keeping my voice low and non-threatening. "What happened, love?"

"Nothing."

"Bella…"

She lets out a big huff and then sits up, moving to face me.

"I have abandonment issues," she says, looking at her fingers in her lap instead of at me.

My eyebrows go way up. This is not what I was expecting. At all.

Even so, this is something I am well aware off. Bella, despite all of her progress, does indeed have abandonment issues.

"I know," I reply, reaching out to run my thumb over her cheek in the hope that the gesture will encourage her to look at me. It works, and I frown slightly when I see her big, sad eyes.

I don't like it when she is sad.

But then a moment later they narrow I'm met with the Bella glare. She punches me in the shoulder. Apparently, I'm in trouble.

"Where were you?" she hisses, crossing her arms over her chest.

'What do you mean?" Usually Bella and I are so in sync. But I'm having a very hard time understanding where this questioning is heading. 'I've been right here."

"Why are you out here at four in the morning?" she demands.

"I couldn't sleep," I explain.

"You couldn't sleep?" she asks with a skeptical raise of the eyebrow.

"No. I'm not sure why not. I just couldn't quiet my head," I reply.

"But you can always sleep." Bella has gone from upset to angry and now petulant.

"Usually, yes."

"Usually?"

"Yeah, I mean sometimes I can't and when that happens a change of location tends to do the trick," I say, still really confused.

"How often is usually?" Bella asks.

"I don't know," I say with a frustrated chuckle. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"So sometimes when I'm in bed with you and you can't sleep, you just leave?" she says, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

"On occasion. Bella," I plead, stilling her flapping hands. "Please. Tell what has you so upset."

"You never wake up before me," she whispers, looking away again. This drives me crazy, when she turns away from me like this. "I don't think you've ever woken up before me. When I wake up you are always there."

"You are an early riser," I agree, still not getting it.

"You woke up first," she continues.

"Well, I never actually fell asleep—"

"The point is," she interrupts, glaring at me again, "I woke up. And you weren't there."

And now I get it.

Bella has abandonment issues.

She woke up and I wasn't there.

In this moment, I realize that even though she left me, abandoned me, once before, I am no longer scared that she will disappear again.

I trust her. Maybe some would think me foolish, but I know her and trust her. She isn't going anywhere.

And, on the other side of the coin, even though I have always been right here for her, some part of her still fears that I will disappear.

Just like everyone else she came to depend on.

And in the logical, rational part of her head, I know she knows that I'm not going anywhere. But doubt and fear are deeply engrained in her. Though I don't believe she doubts me. Of her great losses, only one left willingly.

And even as I have this quick, intense moment of revelation, I feel incredibly guilty for not understanding the depth of her wounds. Even though she has showed me her vulnerability and come to rely on me, I forget on occasion that she still struggles with old demons.

She once called herself a work in progress. I see that now.

I feel so guilty, irrationally so, for leaving her alone in bed.

"Isabella," I say, cradling her face and gently forcing her to look at me.

"I know I'm ridiculous," she mutters, managing a small smile and eye roll.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell her.

"I know."

"I love you."

"I know that too," she whispers, closing her eyes and leaning forward to rest her forehead against mine. "That almost makes it worse."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you love me. I know you would never leave. And knowing all that and still freaking out like this makes me feel so damn stupid. My heart is still fucking racing." She grabs my hand and places it against her chest to prove the validity of her words.

"What happened? Why did you wake up?" I ask.

"I was having this crazy fucking dream. It was like I was trapped in my head and my body kept doing these horrible things, but I didn't have any control over my actions," she explains.

"What kind of horrible things?"

She grimaces at me for a moment before continuing. "Old Bella shit," she mutters.

She doesn't have to explain anymore.

"I hated what I was doing and couldn't stop. I was screaming in my head, but I had no control," she mumbles. "I kept trying to wake up. It felt like hours where I was trapped in my head, along for the fucking ride. And than when I finally did wake the fuck up, I was super freaked out and you weren't there. I just… panicked."

Poor Bella, even tortured by her past. She woke up and I wasn't there. But at least I'm giving her what she needs now. And she is letting me.

"I'm sorry, love," I say, pulling her back to my chest.

"It's not your fault that I'm a crazy person," she replies, snuggling in next to me.

"You are not a crazy person," I say, closing my eyes and just enjoying being with her. "And I'm still sorry you had bad dreams."

"The whole thing was really scary." Her voice is quiet now. She is on the verge of sleep, and I allow myself to drift with her.

"I don't want you to be scared," I murmur in reply.

"I'm not anymore," she whispers. "Sleep now, sweetheart."

So I do. We sleep outside until morning when Ben sticks his head out and laughs at us.

July 31, 2011

A mini van parks on the street outside our house and before the people fully emerge, Bella has taken off. She leaps off the curb into the arms of Tyler fucking Crowley. He has changed little since high school, although his neck does seem a bit bulkier. Emmett eagerly invited the high school crowd. What are three more people and a baby added to a guest list of two hundred?

I have decided in the last three months that I absolutely loathe weddings. There is so much crap that goes into it. Rose and Alice have been dukeing it out against Rosalie's mother who is even more controlling than Alice. Esme has proved to be a talented mediator, but even in Denver the fall out from their fights has reached Bella and me by extension. Even the unflappable Emmett has been stressed. This week our entire extended family will decide upon Boulder to watch my big brother tie the knot. At least they will be staying in my parents newly purchased, half decorated, obscenely large new house. I don't really look forward to it at all. All I want to do is be with Bella.

My girlfriend, who looks far too happy to see dear Tyler.

I do not like the enthusiasm with which Bella greets him or the way he lifts her off the ground to hug her close. He sets her down and we watch as they progress to do a secret handshake complete with high-fives and awkward dances.

"I don't like him," I declare from the front porch, taking a sip of wine.

"Me neither," adds Jake, hand clenched around a beer bottle.

"Why not?" asks Jasper with a laugh. "You haven't even talked to the guy yet."

"He's way too friendly with Bella," says Jake.

"Yeah," I agree.

"He's going to need a reminder of who Bella's best friend is," continues Jake.

"Yeah," I agree again. "And her boyfriend."

"Y'all are ridiculous," mutters Jasper, shaking his head at us.

"Did Alice ever tell you who she lost her virginity to?" I ask pleasantly, glancing over at my brother in law.

"Some big guy from high school," Jasper says dismissively. Jake and I stare at him till he gets it. "Aw, shit!"

"We should go over there," I say as other blasts from my past climb out of the rental car.

So we get up and walk to the car, arms crossed over our chests as we try to look tough.

"Holy fack!" Bella shouts as Jessica Stanley pulls a blond haired baby out of the car. "Robs! You are huge!"

The baby shyly hides his face in his mother's neck, coyly blinking at Bella. For a moment, I fear that Bella will be disappointed and the baby won't remember her.

"Be-yah." Robbie states simply. The smile that blooms on Bella's face is truly breathtaking, and I forget to scowl at the foreigners.

"Oh, Roberto!" she says, pulling the baby into her arms. The sight of Bella with a baby in her arms does unexpected things to my chest. It is a strange combination of joy and pain that culminates in an odd sensation of hope. She looks so comfortable and happy and natural. Smile still in place, she glances over her shoulder in search of me. There is a shift in face, and I know she is thinking the same thing I am. About the baby we almost had. Maybe even the one we might have in the future.

She moves closer to me, grabbing my hand. We are having a moment, and I forget to be tough.

"Robs, this is my man. Can you say hi to Edward?" The baby hides in Bella's hair, shy from all the attention. I smile and say hello. "Edward, you remember Mike, Jess, and Tyler."

"Hello," I repeat, speaking quietly. I find I don't like these people. We were never close in high school and Mike once wanted to get into Bella's pants and Tyler has seen big twin naked. But when forcing myself to be honest I have to admit that the true reason I resent them is because they helped Bella when I couldn't. She let them in.

Damn, I had to get rid of this irrationality because these people from my past are important to Bella in the present.

"Edward!" Jessica yells, pulling me into an unexpected hug and making me uncomfortable. This woman tried to set Bella up with Tyler making it very difficult for me to return her hug. I pat her on the back awkwardly. "Thank you," she whispers in my ear.

I want to ask her what she means, but she pulls away. I shake hands with Mike and Tyler, trying to keep my face impassive. I probably grip Tyler's hand a little too tight and he raises an eyebrow in a silent question that I don't have an answer for.

"Jessica, Mike," she says, continuing with the introductions. "You met Jasper and Jake at Alice's wedding."

Everyone mutters hello.

"Tyler," Bella says, turning away from me to smile at her friend. "This is Jake and Jasper, Alice's husband."

"The southern gentleman?" Tyler asks, smirking at my girlfriend. Bella giggles in reply as Jasper fights a smile. "Good to meet you. Heard a lot about you." Tyler shakes hands with the fellas, seeming to not notice the hostile vibes being sent in his direction.

"Well, the bride and groom are out doing wedding things," Bella says as the big awkward group trudges into the house. "But I can't think of a single facking reason to wait for them to start the heavy drinkin'."

Tyler laughs loudly. "Damn, Bell," he says draping an arm casually around her shoulder. "I've really missed you."

"Samies, Ty Ty," she replies, beaming at him. I work very hard to hide the irrational jealousy coursing through me. Bella would probably not like it if I ruined this little reunion by decking her giant veteran friend.

Two rounds of drinks later, I listen with half an ear as Bella chats animatedly with Mike, Jess, and Tyler. Jake and Jasper sit around the table as well, occasionally contributing but mostly just observing as the four friends catch up.

I sit close to Bella and forget to be jealous of her relationships that don't involve me because baby Robbie has fallen asleep in her arms. I am completely enraptured by how comfortable he appears and how natural Bella looks. She is at ease. She is happy with a child sleeping in her arms.

But he is over a year old now. Would that make him a toddler? Where is the cut off exactly? Damn, she looks so beautiful.

"You still jogging, Bell?" asks Tyler. His question registers somewhere in the back of my brain as I am still totally focused on the sight before me. I am probably freaking out the Newtons with the intensity of my stare. I most likely look like one of those baby-snatching women, driven crazy by the ticking of their biological clock.

I have no desire to steal the Newton's baby. I want one a bit more custom made.

"Yup," replies my ladylove. "Believe it or not, Edward is an even tougher partner than you, Ty. But I do okay. Right, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

That's me.

"What?" I say, snapping back into reality. Bella blushes and smiles shyly as if she knows just what I'm thinking.

"Jogging, doll face," she says, resting a hand on my knee.

"Ah yes," I say, clearing my throat quite awkwardly. "She has really picked up the pace since she quit smoking."

"You quit smoking!" yells Jess, clapping her hands together.

"Mostly," Bella says modestly. "I'm down to one cig a week. But I'm aiming to make it one every two weeks."

"Good for you, Bell," says Mike.

Why the fuck do they call her Bell? I seriously consider demanding an answer when Alice flies through the door and ends up in Jessica's lap. The rest of us wince as the high school best friends squeal. Only dogs can understand them at this point. But they do succeed in waking up Robbie.

He whines and Bella tries to soothe him, garnering the attention of Alice.

"Oh my goodness, Jessica!" squeaks Alice. "What did you do?"

"I made a baby," Jess replies, looking smug.

"She had help," say Mike, standing to give Alice a weird little side hug.

"Me too," says Alice, ignoring Mike and rubbing her ever rounding belly.

"She also had help," puts in Jasper.

Bella attempts to pass off Robbie to big twin, but the little guy fusses and clings to Bella's neck. She smiles down at him, kissing his head.

"Come 'ere, big guy," says Jess, rising and taking her son. "He woke up way too early and didn't sleep on the plane at all. He should be much friendlier later. Bell, is it okay if I put him down for a nap in the living room?"

There is that nickname again. To them, she is Bell. To the Boulder crowd, Bells. Isa to the nomads. I'm the only one that gets to call her Isabella, and I find this thought somewhat comforting.

"Go for it," Bella replies. "You can use the spare room upstairs if you want. It's almost a nursery."

Our old bedroom has been half converted into a nursery at this point. Rose and Emmett moved into their own place about a month ago. Bella and I stay in their old bedroom when we are in town.

"Thanks, but I don't want him all the way on the second floor when he wakes up all discombobulated in a strange house," replies Jessica.

"There is a bedroom off the kitchen," Bella says. "Here, let me show you."

I frown as she disappears.

"Hey there, Ali-Cat," says Tyler, standing up to greet my sister. Poor Jasper does not look pleased by this endearment. Alice has to lean way back to get a look at Tyler's face. They were really the most bizarre looking couple ever. Tyler use to carry her around like a doll because he didn't like walking slow and her legs were too short to keep up.

"Holy mother of pearl," says Alice, beaming. "Tyler Calvin Crowley is in my backyard!"

He laughs and pulls her into a hug that lifts her off her feet. I am pleased that he seems just as friendly with Alice as he does with Bella.

"It's been a long time," he says, setting her down a moment later.

Bella silently returns to her seat, her hand coming to rest back on my thigh.

"Way too long," Alice agrees, nodding her head. "How are you? I should have called when I heard you got home."

She means from Iraq, and I feel a little guilty for being so hostile towards the guy.

"Don't worry about it," he replies. "And I'm good. Much better. I'm getting a hang of this whole civilian thing."

"Glad to hear that!" Tyler takes his seat, and Alice glances around, realizing there are no more chairs. Instead of retrieving one from inside, she plops down on Jasper's lap. "Did you meet my husband?"

"We've been introduced," drawls Jasper. Tyler nods in confirmation.

"This is kinda surreal," Alice say, laying an arm around Jasper's shoulders. "I really can't believe you're here. Or that you're such good friends with Bella."

"I know. It's weird as shit," Tyler agrees, grinning. "It's a small, small world. Seriously, I think the last time we saw each other you were like seventeen."

"No, that's not right," says Alice in full on reminiscing mode. "You came back from basic to take me to my senior prom."

"Ah, that's the truth," he says, nodding. "Not that I remember much of the evening."

"We drunkenly ended up lost in the woods until we finally wandered into Edward's meadow around dawn," Alice says, laughing. "I felt like we were in some poorly plotted horror movie."

"Edward has a meadow?" Bella asks.

"Yeah, it's all green and a little creek curves around one side. Edward went there like everyday to read and study and think. I used to go with him in the spring to draw the explosion of wildflowers. I love all that color."

"I know that meadow," Bella murmurs, taking my hand in hers and resting them in her lap. "It's on the jogging route, right?" she asks, turning towards Tyler.

"Yeah," says Tyler. "I go around but your lazy ass would cut through."

"I spent a lot of time there," Bella tells me as Tyler, Mike, and Alice continue to catch up and talk about the olden days.

'Really?" I say, pleased by this connection. She moves her chair as close to mine as possible, and I rest my arm around her waist.

"I was so drawn to it. I liked it there. I would go there to think too," she says, still talking quietly to keep our conversation as private as possible given the circumstances.

"It was always my thinking spot as well," I reply. "I liked the solitude and the peace."

"That's exactly right," she says with a shy smile.

"What did you think about?" I ask.

Bella blushes in return. "You," she confesses. "Always you. And I really felt you there."

I kiss her soundly, not caring that we have an audience. Bella is my girlfriend, my soul mate, my everything. Who I trust and love. And I am allowed to kiss her whenever I like now. I suppose by this time I should be used to the idea that she actually does love me, but at moments like this I can't help but be touched and surprised.

"Ew, gross," says my demon big twin. "They have been disgusting since they got back together."

"I think it's cute," says Tyler and Jess nods her agreement. I narrow my eyes in suspicion, not sure if they are sincere of not.

Bella gives me a final chaste kiss before pulling away and forcing us to rejoin the conversation.

"Seriously," Tyler continues, taking a long sip of beer. "It was hard to imagine the kid I knew in high school and the crazy that is Bella together, but I get it now."

Now I am really offended, but Bella smiles at her friend.

"Dude, the way she talked about you," says Tyler, ignoring my scowl. "She's so obsessed with you. I could never tell if it was borderline stalkerish or nauseatingly sweet."

I decided that maybe Tyler isn't a terrible guy. He accurately described the way I feel about Bella, especially during her absence. Also I like that her obsession mirrors mine. I am relieved that she made it clear to Tyler that I am the man she loves. That she has always loved.

"I kept my stalker side locked down, if you recall," says Bella, not denying any of his other claims.

"It's just good to see you happy," Tyler continues with a chuckle. "Seriously, congrats to both of you."

"Aren't you supposed to be saying that to us?" Emmett booms, stepping through the back door and pulling Rosalie behind him.

More greetings ensue. More introductions are made.

The awkward little get to know you continues. Jake scowls as Bella and Tyler laugh at yet another inside joke. I'm glad I'm not the only one irrationally threatened by this relationship.

These people know a side of Bella I will never see. I witnessed the old Bella and am spending a lot of time with the new, but I never saw the transition, the middle ground between the two. She told me about Forks, detailing all her self-discovery and recovery as well as the friendships she built there. But I still don't know it because I never saw her like that. These relative strangers did, and I feel they know her in a way I never can. And I resent them for it. They share so many stories, a whole history I am not privy to simply because she was there while I was here.

It's illogical and ridiculous, but I just hope I can transcend these negative feelings and get along with the Forks crowd for the next week.

"You we're awfully quiet tonight," Bella says when we finally get into the spare bedroom. I requested the week off, and now that Bella is writing for an online publication based in Denver, her hours are flexible. We will be staying here in Alice and Jasper's guest room until after the wedding at the end of the week.

But for tonight, we are finally alone. After hours of drinking, eating, and catch up, our guests finally called it a night and retired to their hotel.

"Was this hard for you?" she continues.

"Why would you ask that?" I am still trying to convince Bella that the presence of my former classmates has no effect on me what so ever, but my love is perceptive.

"Because these are people you didn't exactly like in high school," she replies, kicking her shoes into the closet as I sit on the end of the bed. "They probably teased you and made you feel inferior."

"Tyler never teased me. And Jessica never paid much attention to me at all," I reply, desperately wanting to change the topic of conversation. "Plus it was a long time ago. None of that matters anymore."

"Still, its not fun to be the social pariah. There was probably a lot for you to deal with this afternoon."

I just shrug, really not wanting to get into this.

Bella sighs, obviously irritated with my silence and disappears into the bathroom.

I'm really trying to not be cranky. I am really trying to be courteous and friendly. But apparently I'm not doing a very good job nor can I really articulate why I am feeling so blue. And possessive. And really generally just pissy.

Bella returns a few moments later, hair taken down from her messy bun. She's drinking a glass of water and probably just brushed her teeth in preparation for bed.

"You may be fooling everyone else, but not me," she says, setting her glass down on a book on the desk and putting her hands on her hips.

"What do you mean?" I ask, attempting to sound innocent when I really do know what she is talking about.

"The rest of the family may think you are just being your typical quiet-in-the-presence-of-strangers self, but I know there is much more than social awkwardness going on your head."

Again, I just shrug.

"Come on, sweetheart," she insists, glaring at me. "Talk to me."

I stand, hands in my hair, pulling off my light jacket just for something to do.

"It's just hard sometimes," I confess, sighing heavily. Although I am coming to terms with Bella's absence, there are still moments when I feel woefully inferior and left in the dark. "It's like you have this whole life separate from me. The way you talk and joke with these people just shows that. All these experiences that make me feel like I will never really know all of you like you know all of me. I didn't do anything while you were gone, but you were living, changing. You were basically my first everything and my only everything and my whole everything."

Bella looks at me for a long time before answering. Confessing this to her makes me feel a little sick and woefully pathetic.

"Edward," she says softly, taking my jaw in her hands and staring at me intently. "You know me. You understand me. Just because we spent some time apart and experienced some things apart doesn't mean we don't know each other all the way down to our souls. And you were basically my first and everything too."

"What do you mean?" I ask, breathing her in and reveling in her closeness.

"Well, you were the first and only boy that I ever really cared about, loved. The first and only to matter. The first and only that showed me that I'm not a terrible person and that my life doesn't have to be what it was before you." I am flushing in awe at this, reaching out to rest my hands on her hips. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she steps forward and pushes her body into mine. As she tips head up to whisper in my ear, my thoughts get cloudy. "You were the first boy to put your mouth on me."

What in the hell is she talking about? I believe we have turned to the world of sexual firsts, and it is painfully obvious that I wasn't her first anything in that department.

"P… Pardon?" I manage. Her close proximity is very distracting and my pants become uncomfortably tight.

"Your mouth." Her voice is low and husky while her lips graze my ear. She is quite the little seductress, and I shudder against her touch. "On me."

I understand now what she means but can't really get my mind around this new and awesome piece of information.

"My mouth where?" I ask, my tone matching hers as I slip my hands under her t-shirt. Ah, there are the lower back dimples I know and love.

"You know where," she replies, hands moving to wrap around my shoulders and pulling me impossibly closer.

Well, fuck me.

"Really?" I squeak, letting her push me down on the bed because my legs aren't really capable of supporting me any longer.

"Really," she confirms, pulling her t-shirt over her head and discarding it on the floor. My breath catches in my throat as I gape up at her in wonder. The things coming out of her mouth combined with the view of her standing half naked in front of me have me completely speechless.

But the most stunning of all is the look on Bella's face. She blushes, vulnerability and nerves etched on her features. She is letting me in. She is telling me her deep dark secrets.

And I really, really like this secret.

"Why didn't you tell me, love?" I ask hoarsely, pulling her forward so she stands in between my spread legs.

"I was scared of what I feel when I'm around you," she says, hands on my shoulders now. This puts her breasts right at eye level, but in this moment I find the subtle shifts in her face more appealing. Well, slightly more appealing. Wide eyes, bottom lip held in between her teeth. "But I'm not anymore. I love you."

"As I love you," I reply, hand traveling up her bare stomach over her chest and coming to rest on her neck. Her shy smile makes it difficult for me to breathe. I pull her down and kiss her slowly, tenderly. "I love you, I love you, I love you." I chant the mantra between kisses.

Bella's hands fist in my hair, holding my face to hers as I flip open the fly of her jeans, feeling her moist panties. Bella whimpers into my mouth and I hold back a groan in my throat. "And I love that I'm the only one to ever taste you," I continue through my heavy breathing. She reaches behind her to remove her bra, leaving her bare from the waist up. My hands immediately find her newly exposed flesh, and I moan a little as I feel her nipples pebble in my palms.

"Edward," she murmurs before her tongue once again finds its way into my mouth.

The kiss is slow, languid, and I run my hands over her body before pulling her jeans and panties down her legs. She balances herself on my shoulders and steps out of the clothes, kicking her pants away from us and leaving her totally naked and standing and me fully clothed and seated.

This will not do.

I kiss her again before rising from the bed. Bella's hands undo my belt buckle as I pull off my t-shirt. Now completely naked, Bella pulls our bodies together with her hands on my hips, pinning my erection between us.

There is no more need to say anything at all as I wrap my arms around Bella, kissing her deeply and lifting her off her feet before turning and tenderly laying us down on the bed together.

Our lovemaking is quiet, tender, and intense. The room is filled with our sighs and moans. Never do her eyes leave mine, even when I lean close to kiss her. Bella's hands trace the planes of my back before moving over my shoulders and up my neck. She touches my face reverently, as if she needs to touch me to confirm that I'm really here with her. That it really is me.

After, one of Bella's hands rests on my back while the other runs through my hair. I don't move. Don't think I could if I tried. We lay in silence for a long time, and I feel a shift in our relationship. It's difficult to pinpoint the change exactly, but I'm not resentful anymore.

This amazing woman loves me. _Loves_ me. And it doesn't matter that we were apart for the last two years because I know her. I am the only one that really knows all of her. The contradictions that make her Bella. The strength and vulnerability. The joy and pain.

I'm the one she comes to when she has bad dreams. She gives me just what I need when I'm feeling cranky and insecure.

She is remarkable and she loves me.

"My only," she whispers in my ear.

I fall asleep, utterly and totally content.


	30. The Trust

**So I'm back from the greatest trip ever. Thanks for all the well wishes. It was seriously so fab.**

**Onward! This chapter (as is the usually these days) got way to flippin' long so I decided to split it.**

**The good news: There are now two chappies after this, plus an epi.**

**The bad news: This is a pretty big cliffie.**

**More good news: I should post again tomorrow.**

**THANK YOU FOR READING! Seriously, all the response to this little story of mine is humbling. Again, thank you. **

**Also, Twilight does not belong to me.**

* * *

August 4, 2011

"Edward Anthony." Bella is trying to reprimand me, but she is kinda failing being as she is all giggly and blushy. It may have something to do with the fact that I'm nibbling on her neck and tickling her sides, keeping her from moving by trapping her against my car. "We're late enough already. We have to go in."

"I don't want to go in," I whisper in her ear, pushing her more firmly against the side of the Volvo. She whimpers slightly as I kiss that sensitive spot on her jaw before she half-heartedly shoves me away.

"We have to go in," she repeats, straightening my already perfectly straight tie.

"But I don't want to," I whine, barely resisting to stomp my foot like a child.

"It's going to be fine," she says, poking at my bottom lip until I can't help but smile.

"Shouldn't you be the one dreading this?" I ask because the longer I can keep her talking, the less time we have to spent with all the people gathered in my parent's home.

"Maybe," Bella, replies shrugging. Although she appears the picture of calm, I know that she is stressed about seeing my extended family again. And I don't blame her. They were far from welcoming last time she met them at Alice and Jasper's wedding. But Bella is putting on a brave face, even if it took her twice as long as it normally does to get ready. Normally, I take longer to dress because my ridiculous need for every crease of my clothes to be ironed just so. Today, Bella beat me. But her dressing carefully is the only indication of her nerves.

The extra time certainly paid off. She looks stunning and classy and like a grown up in her full-length halter sundress. She even straightened her hair, a lengthy endeavor. As much as I like her usual wild style, I love it when she straightens it because I can run my fingers through it without worry about them snagging on a knot and inadvertently hurting her.

Bella says she bought the dress because the color matches my eyes. I didn't notice but I'm glad she did.

She is also wearing her Birkenstocks and this makes me smile too.

I glance toward my parent's large mountain home. They ended up purchasing quite a bit of land up the canyon. It is slightly amusing and a bit embarrassing to see them embrace their view of Colorado life so thoroughly. Carlisle has even bought a horse.

The property is lovely, but right now it is filled with people I should like being as I am related to a good chunk of them. I just find their snobbishness so exhausting.

Esme has lectured the grandparents about being kind to Bella, but I certainly have my doubts. I will not tolerate cruelty toward my love.

"Edward," she says, tilting my face towards her with her fingers on my chin. "It's just for the next couple of days, okay? I can handle your family. I don't particularly care what they have to say about me."

"But last time—"

"I don't know if you've noticed," she says with a chuckle, "but I've done some changing since the last time I saw them."

"I noticed," I murmur with an answering grin.

"I'm not that insecure little child I was back then," she continues. "My self worth is not dependent on the opinions of your ridiculously stuck up extended family."

"Okay. Good. Great."

"Edward, I want you to ignore them. I mean it. None of your oh so gallant, somewhat misguided, over fucking protective white knight shit, okay? That will just make it worse. Ignore them. I intended to."

I mutter something without actually promising to do what she says, but it is good enough for Bella because she kisses me quickly before dragging me up the stone walk way.

When we enter the front door, the house is shockingly silent, but upon further inspection it is clear that this pre-wedding family barbeque is in full swing on the back deck. Through the large glass doors, I spot Grandpa Cullen instructing Dad at the grill while Uncle Marcus looks on in boredom. Grandma Cullen is sitting in the shade with a glass of wine in her hand. She is flanked by Alice, my mom, Mrs. Hale, and my cousin Heidi, all of who are chatting animatedly. Probably about the wedding. In the large grassy back yard beyond, Emmett and Jasper play two hand touch with Heidi's three sons, as well as Mr. Hale and Rose and a bunch of other people I don't recognize. Quite a few other people and kids I don't know are milling about, and I assume these are Rosalie's relatives.

They look perfectly happy and perfectly normal, but in reality they are a dangerous bunch.

Bella rolls her eyes at my hesitation before opening the doors herself and stepping into that bright Colorado sunshine.

"Hello!" Her voice is perky and completely un-Bellaish. Feeling rather grouchy, I follow her.

My mom stands to hug her first, followed by Alice. They move to me next before I move to stand closer to Bella.

"Hey, Mrs. Hale," Bella says, greeting Rosalie's mother. I forgot until this moment that Bella has quite the little history with the Hale's as well. She never got along with Rose's mother. But Rose barely gets along with Rose's mother so I guess this isn't that surprising.

"Hello, Bella," she replies in a clipped, icy tone that makes my eye twitch slightly. "You are looking well."

"Thanks, Mrs. H," Bella says with a grin. "Feelin' well, too. Hi, Mrs. Cullen."

"Hello," my grandmother replies. I can tell by her voice that she is pretty drunk already, despite the early hour. As usual. "Do I know you, my dear? What silly looking shoes."

Bella giggles and I manage to not roll my eyes. "Grandma, you remember my girlfriend, Bella? You met when Alice got married."

"She was a bridesmaid," Alice puts in helpfully.

"Ah, yes," Grandma Cullen says with a little hiccup. "The gold-digger. I thought you'd died."

My fist clench at my sides as I remind myself that this is a harmless, drunk old bitty.

"Naw, bre," Bella says. She doesn't seem even a little bit offended by the comment. "I'm with him for his abilities in the bedroom, not his money."

I choke a little on nothing and turn bright red. Alice laughs like a loon and my mother cracks a smile, but Grandma Cullen nods thoughtfully.

"Ah yes," agrees the matriarch of the family. "Of course Edward has impressive sexual stamina. All Cullen men do. Richard is a beast in the bedroom."

Oh. Dear. God.

"As is Carlisle."

Just kill me. A single bullet between the eyes will do. Alice turns to look at me in horror, and I'm glad that at least big twin is rightfully disgusted by this talk.

"Alec too," muses Heidi, standing to great Bella and I now. "Why do you think we have so many children?"

All the woman folk laugh, but I'm far too disturbed to do anything other than stand there with my mouth agape. Bella bonding with my stogy grandmother over my sexual tendencies is not how I envisioned this afternoon going.

Bella moves away from me to shake my cousin-in-law's extended hand.

"Hi, I'm Heidi. I'm married to Marcus and Chelsea's sole heir."

I like how Heidi talks. Despite being from a fairly well do to Chicago family, she finds her in laws and the rest of our family pretty fucking ridiculous.

"Bella," my love greets. "Nice to meet you."

"Hi, Heidi," I say, hugging her quickly. "Where is my cousin?"

"He had to work," she explains, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder. "As usual. Some last minute crisis had him flying to New York. But he'll be here for the wedding on Saturday."

"Looking forward to seeing him," I say, still recovering form all the gross shit discussed a moment before. "It's been a long time."

"Yes, it has!" she replies, lightly smacking my arm. "You have been a stranger the last couple years."

This is the truth. I pretty much avoided my family while Bella was gone. I was too busy wallowing in self-pity and being surrounded by people in relationships made it worse.

My grandmother makes another comment about her sex life, Bella pulls up a chair, and I run off, muttering something about getting a drink. I thought I was going need to protect Bella, to stick close to her side.

She seems to be doing just fine.

We eat dispersed throughout my parent's large backyard sitting area. I've met about a zillion new people in the last few hours that will soon make up Emmett's extended family. Who knew there were so many Hales? I wonder how many of them I will actually see in the future.

I vaguely listen to some of Rose's male cousins talk stock market with my father and his father and Rose's father, but really I just watch Bella chat animatedly with Grandma Cullen of all people. I'm not sure how she's managed it. I've never shared much more than a few pleasantries with the woman. She was never the fuzzy, backing cookies type grandma, so the fact that Bella has cracked the old nut is truly astonishing.

I shudder when I think of what creates the foundation of their newfound friendship.

Bella sends me a shy little smile as Grandma Cullen continues to talk her ear off, gesturing somewhat wildly. I shake my head, smirking slightly, in response.

Here she is, craving out her own little niche in my crazy family. Her wonders never cease to amaze.

August 6, 2011

"The wedding was lovely, Mrs. Cullen," says Tia, polite as ever.

"I agree," replies my mother, taking a sip of wine. "I'm glad you could make it. Edward has told us so much about you and it's good to finally meet you."

Tia beams at my mother. "I feel the same. It was so nice of them to invite me. I don't really know Rosalie that well at all."

"The more the merrier," replies my mom. "Rosalie just looks gorgeous, doesn't she? And I am tearing up just thinking about how Emmett cried at the alter."

"Bawled like a baby," I agree with a smirk, taking a sip of my own drink and never taking my eyes off Bella on the dance floor where she is jumping around with Tyler. And I'm not even jealous. Mostly. I just like to look at her when she is so happy.

"Edward Anthony," says my mother, smacking my arm lightly with the back of her hand. "I know for certain that you will shed many a tear when you and Bella finally get married."

I like that she says "when" instead of "if."

"Probably," I reply. Bella throws her head back in laugher as Tyler does a disco move and then almost falls over, taking Jake and Leah with her, as she tries to copy him. "Definitely," I amend, grinning.

Esme abruptly throws her arms around my neck, squeezing me to her for a moment. I blink down at her in confusion when she pulls away and I see tears in her eyes.

"Mom?" I ask in concern.

"I am just so happy that all my children are finally happy," she says with a sniff. "Damn, my make-up is probably all over the place. Again. Excuse me, Edward. Tia, it was really wonderful to meet you."

She takes off towards the bathroom, face in her hands and shoulders shaking.

"Shouldn't you go comfort her?" Tia asks in alarm.

"No, she'll be fine," I reply, shifting my body to stare once again at the dance floor. "She has been spontaneously busting into tears all week. At this point it's just annoying."

"I think it's nice. She obviously loves you and is happy that you are happy," Tia says.

"Yup. I suppose it has been a long time coming. For all of us to finally be with who we want to be with," I reply.

"Well, I wouldn't say all of us," Tia mutters, turning to the bartender and ordering another drink.

"Sorry, T," I say, realizing my mistake. "I meant for my siblings and I."

"I know," she says, patting my shoulder.

"Are we okay?" I ask. We haven't really had this conversation. After everything happened over the New Year, we just sort of ignored it. Everything went back to the way it was before except with a underlying awkward vibe that neither of us acknowledged. I'm glad that Tia and Bella reached some sort of understanding, but I feel guilty with the realization that I never really talked to my friend.

I definitely fucked things up with Tia. But she is my friend and I hope she will continue to be my friend.

"Huh?" Tia asks, sounding so discombobulated that I glance over at her. I'm surprised to she that she is as focused on the dance floor as I once was.

"Are we okay? You are one of my best friends, T. I don't want that to change," I tell her, still trying to figure out what the unfocused look on her face. It is a look I've never seen before.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," she says, waving a hand at me dismissively. I chuckle a little because she is not taking this conversation seriously at all and she usually takes everything super seriously. "Whatever. Edward, who is dancing with Bella?"

Is that what has her so concerned? That Bella is dancing with another man?

"That's Tyler," I explain slowly as Tia continues to stare. Alice and Jasper, Mike and Jess along with the bride and groom, join the group as the band plays "Play That Funky Music." They look like idiots but all appear to be having a fabulous time. "I went to high school with him and they became really good friends in Forks."

"Friends? Just friends?" she demands, turning her wide eyes on me now. Never have I seen Tia this flustered. Not during finals or when she found out about Bella. It is disconcerting. Though at the same time I hate that she is still questioning Bella's commitment and faithfulness to me. If that is even what she is doing. I'm having a hard time figuring it out.

"Yes, Tia," I say, sighing heavily. "They have always just been friends."

"Okay, good," Tia says nodding and wringing her hands.

And then I think I understand. Tia's bizarre behavior has nothing to do with a concern for me.

"You like him!" I say, feeling down right giddy.

"What?" she shrieks, blushing deeply. "That's just… don't be… ridiculous… I haven't even met him!"

"But you think he's sexy," I continue, loving that Tia is so uncomfortable.

She mutters something under her breath.

"He's a good guy. And a marine. Or was a marine. Still, girls like men in uniform, right?" I ask, openly laughing at her at this point. She is literally chewing on her fingernails.

"I haven't even met him," she repeats primly and folding her hands together in an attempt to act normal. I'm not buying it.

"Do you want to?" I ask, grinning at her.

"What are you doing?" she demands as I take her hand and drag her towards the dance floor. "Edward! No, stop! I can't!"

But it's too late because we are here. I move my hips, dancing close to Bella and pulling Tia with me. Bella smiles and laughs as I emulate Tyler's ridiculous dance moves. He laughs too, and I decide he really isn't so bad.

"Tyler," I yell over the music, gesturing towards Tia who is standing rigidly at my side. Her eyes are wide and panicked. "This is Tia."

Tyler stops dancing and his mouth falls open the moment he sees Tia. I continue to dance, moving away from Tia and closer to Bella who is glancing between the two looking shocked and pleased at the same time. She turns her bright eyes on me, mouthing "no fucking way."

I pull Bella towards me, turning her with my hands on her hips so that her back is pushed against my front, and we watch Tyler and Tia stare at each other with similar dumbfounded expressions.

Bella, grinding into my crotch and driving me completely crazy, reaches up behind her and pulls my head down with her hand on my neck. She turns her head and her hot breath grazes my ear.

"What the fuck?" she says, asking the question out loud this time.

I just chuckle and shake my head as we continue to dance next to unmoving pair.

The disco number ends and is replaced with a painfully slow song. Part of me feels a little bad for my obviously uncomfortable friend, but mostly I'm just having too much fun.

"Tyler," Bella says, taking pity on her friend, who appears just as flustered as Tia. "Do you mind if I dance with Edward now? Perhaps you could ask Tia to dance?"

Tyler gapes at Bella before he starts stutter incomprehensibly at Tia. She looks at him, her expression somewhere between wonder and confusion, while he turns bright red and stares at his feet. I can only assume he is attempting to ask her to dance.

"Pardon?" Tia manages to squeak out when Tyler stops blathering. This whole thing is painful to watch, and I give Tia a little shove, causing her to bump into Tyler's massive chest. Thankfully, he offers her his hand and the two start to move silently together.

Success!

I smirk to myself, quite pleased with my effort, but then I stop thinking about anything at all because Bella's arms come around my neck and her chest presses up against mine.

She looks so beautiful, even in the tight black bridesmaid dress that only the queen of the damned – also known as my sister-in-law – would have selected. Bella discarded her heels and pulled her hair out of the elaborate updo the moment the toasts were finished. As a result, her hair is even more wild and appealing than usual. She is flushed from dancing, alcohol, and just general happiness, and I find myself wishing that this were our wedding.

So I let myself imagine it as I move with the woman I love in my arms.

BPOV

"Trying your hand at matchmaker, are we?" I whisper into Edward's ear as I play with the hair at the back of his head. I have to get on my tiptoes to ensure that he will hear me, but he still manages to lead me in a graceful slow dance.

"Humm?" he says, apparently confused by my words.

I pull away and nod toward the couple moving in a slow circle next to us. The look of puppy love on both their faces is fucking comical and totally bizarre.

Tia and Tyler. Who'd a thought it?

"Right," Edward says, clearing his throat and pulling me closer. "That. Them. Yes, match making."

What the fuck is going on inside that head of his? Even knowing him like I do and living with him for the past few months, I still have no idea most of the time.

"It's weird," I continue, laughing because I have never seen my big, strong friend look so discombobulated.

"What's weird?" Edward asks.

I pull back so I can get a good look at his face. "Tyler and Tia," I say, really questioning his sanity at this point. He frowns slightly as if he doesn't understand the English language. I laugh because he is just so fucking cute. "What the fuck is going on in that big, ol' brain of yours, Edward Cullen?"

"When are we going to get married?" he bursts out before flushing and looking as if he wishes he hadn't spoke.

"I don't know," I murmur, blushing as well. "Not for a while yet."

He just nods, his face totally unreadable and impassive. His dance steps never falter, even if I did stumble slightly when the words left his mouth.

I hope I didn't hurt his feelings.

"It's just not time, Edward," I whisper, pleading with him to understand. I have changed so much, made so much progress. But I'm still not ready for this final step.

"Hey, I know," he says, smiling at me now. I didn't realize that my whole body had tensed for fear that he is tired of waiting for me to be ready. All he ever does is wait for me to be ready. "You said 'yet,'" he continues. "Yet is good. I can work with yet."

I beam at him and lay my head on his shoulder. His hand traces the dimples at my lower back.

We dance and I think about this whole marriage thing. He needs to trust me first. And I need to trust myself. Sometimes I get scared that I'm just going to wake up one day and magically turn back to the old Bella. It's an irrational fear, but I behaved pretty fucking irrationally for a long time. Trust will come time. I truly believe that.

He needs to forgive me too. And I probably need to forgive myself a little bit as well.

"After you are a real doctor," I say suddenly as the song comes to an end. Edward raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking I elaborate. "I mean… I just want us to be settled. I want us both to be comfortable and settled in our jobs and not have any other shit going on."

Plus, that gives me at least two years while he finishes school to get my head around being a wife. Three, if we are including his year as an intern.

"Great," he says, smiling at me like he is amused with my little out burst. "When I'm a real Doctor. It's a date."

I giggle at him, closing my eyes and breathing him in as he plants a kiss on y temple.

"I love you," I tell him.

"As I love you," he responds.

The party continues on. It's the one positive I can identify of having a huge ass wedding. Big wedding equals big party. And part of me still loves a good party.

Even if it means spending more time with Edward's extended family.

I have come to love Grandma Cullen. I'm not sure how I let that sex comment pop out of my mouth, but against the odds I've won the respect of the Cullen matriarch. She really is a mean old bitch, but she is totally the kind of woman that tolerates no weakness. She likes me, and for whatever reason, I kinda like her too – even if most of what leaves her mouth is sexist or racist or classist or a thousand other ists that make my hackles go up. But I've somehow won the right to disagree and call her out, which I do. Often,

For someone so fucking conservative about every fucking thing, the old woman sure likes to talk about sex.

I found that winning over Grandma Cullen – or Margie, as she insists I call her – has done little to get the rest of the pretentious family off my back. Chelsea, Edward's aunt, looks at me with condescending amusement, replying to everything I say with "how bohemian." Marcus, her creepy as fuck husband and Carlisle's older brother, just leers, perpetually eye fucking me. Grandpa Cullen – or Dr. Cullen as there is no way in hell he will ever tell me to call him Richard – just ignores my existence, something I quite enjoy.

Which is why I'm shocked as fuck when he asks me to cut in as I take Edward's hand for another slow song.

"Uhhh…" is Edward's oh so intelligent response. He looks at me with mild panic, as if he would rather do anything than hand me over to his scary and disapproving grandfather. I squeeze his hand and give what I hope is a reassuring smile. But really I am not overly thrilled to take Grandpa Cullen's hand and move away from Edward.

"I'll just get another drink," says Edward stiffly. I know he will be watching, ready to run to the rescue.

We move in awkward silence for awhile. The old man is a good dancer. I saw him spinning his wife around the dance floor gracefully earlier. But with me he's obviously tense and irritated.

"This is just getting ridiculous, don't you think, Miss Swan?" he asks, sounding shockingly pleasant.

"Uh, what?" I ask, having no fucking clue what he was referring too.

"You," he continues, causing me to scowl, "wasting my grandson's valuable time."

"Wasting his time?" I ask, still not getting it.

"The last time he brought you around, we all turned the other cheek," he says with a sigh. I hold my tongue because trying to set Edward up with some fucking debutante while he was home for Christmas break our junior year is really turning the other fucking cheek. "We indulged him his little… dalliance but enough is enough. His preoccupation with you has run its course, Miss Swan."

Once upon a time, dearest Richard's words would have really pissed me off. Well, they do still piss me off, but then the anger would be covering the hurt and my escalating feelings of worthlessness. Now, I'm more just annoyed by this washed up old geezer.

"Dalliance, huh?" I say, chuckling slightly.

Grandpa Cullen's dance steps falter for a moment so I know I surprised him with my candor. Here is a man that is obviously used to being listened too. The man likes to intimidate, but it's not working with me.

"Richard," I continue, polite as ever. "Mind if I call you Richard?" I don't wait for a reply but get a lot of satisfaction when he turns purple. "I hate to tell you this, but me and Edward are not dallying or whatever you call it. We are together and are planning on keeping it that way for a very long time."

"What exactly are your intentions with my grandson?" he hisses at me, pretty fucking mad now.

And didn't I just answer this question a moment ago with the together a long time thing? Jeeze, this fossil is really trying my patience.

"I really don't see how it's any of your business," I reply.

"It's my money," he snaps. "That makes it my business."

"Money?" I ask. For the zillionth time since this ill advised dance, I'm fucking confused.

"His inheritance," Richard says, totally exasperated with me. "That is why you came back, I'm sure."

I notice that we've stopped the charade of dancing, probably a while ago, and now I pull my hand out of his, taking a step back in hopes that some distance will make it easier to not punch this asshole.

It doesn't.

"You are so totally wrong," I say, shaking my head.

"I'll pay you to get out of our life," Gramps says. He even has the gall to reach for his checkbook. "How many zeros are you thinking?"

I want to ask if go fuck yourself somehow translates into a monetary amount, but I magically refrain.

"I don't want his money," I say, pleased with how calm I sound.

"You really are a crafty one, aren't you, Miss Swan?" he asks with a dark chuckle. "You must know that now that Edward is twenty-five and has full access to his trust fund, that I'm no longer able to touch it. You can get much more by staying with him than I am willing to write a snake like you."

Edward has full access to his trust fund? Edward _has_ a trust fund?

Right. Of course he does. All the Cullen kids do. I remember Edward telling me about this a million years ago, and although I've always know the Cullen's have obscene amounts of money, we haven't really discussed it.

A heads up about the whole "I'm a fucking bazillionaire" thing would have been greatly appreciated. Perhaps he could have even told me, oh I don't know, a fucking month and a half ago when we celebrated his birthday?

Idiot.

"I may no longer have monetary influence over my grandson," says Richard, his voice low and dangerous, "but you don't want to make an enemy out of me, Miss Swan. Do you really want to be responsible for destroying Edward's relationship with the family?"

The family. This dude sounds like a fucking Mob boss or some shit. Wow, what a fucking plot twist that would be. I'll have float that theory by Edward in the future. Right after I finish smacking him around for not telling me about his trust fund.

For a moment, I think that maybe there is a reason Edward didn't say anything. Maybe he does really think I'm with him for his money. But before this thought really materializes, I dismiss it as lunacy. The man loves me and knows I love him.

"I'm his family, Dr. Cullen," I say quietly, turning my back on the old man. I glance over my shoulder, suddenly pitying this old fogey. He is such an angry, bitter man. He doesn't have _that_ much time left, and if I've learned anything in the last few years, it's to let go. Dude seriously should let go of the shit that doesn't matter. Like social pedigree and family lineage. "And I really hope you can grow to tolerate me, because if you don't, you aren't going to be seeing much of your grandson in coming years. That would be a shame."

That makes him real fuckin' mad, but I don't stick around to see his reaction.

I find Edward at a nearby table, watching me approach like a hawk while he sits next to Ben and Angela. Edward's eyes search my face as I lay my hand on his shoulder when I get to them.

"Bella!" shouts Ben. Someone has obviously been enjoying the open bar. "Just the girl we need."

"Oh really?" I reply, faintly amused. Edward shoots his roommate a withering look. I know he wants to quiz me on my convo with his pop pop but he'll just have to wait. Plus, I need a moment to collect my thoughts, to figure out how I really feel about the whole awful interaction.

"Yup," Angela replies.

"So you know how we were all planning on signing the lease on the apartment for another year next week?" he asks. I nod in response. "Well, I was thinking that just you and Edward should sign the thing."

I smile, pleased by the idea of an official document connecting my name to Edward's. Just mine and Edward's.

"There's an idea," I reply, as Edward smiles softly up at me. "So are you two finally taking the next step?"

"Yeah!" Angela says, absolutely beaming. "But we aren't going far. We actually are going to rent a one bedroom in your building. We're going to be neighbors!"

We high-five.

"So it looks like rent is going to go up a wee bit for the two of you," continues Ben, looking rather pleased with himself. "Bummer."

"Yup," I say, remembering to be pissed at Edward. "Good thing Edward now has access to his giant trust fund now that he's twenty-five."

Edward's eyebrows go way up as I scowl at him, my hand tightening on his shoulder. He winces and I let go because I really don't want to hurt him.

"You sound pissed," observes Angela. "Why are you pissed? Shouldn't you be happy that your boyfriend has buckets of money?"

Edward snorts at this.

"You should make him take you on a really cool vacation," Ben suggest.

"I really don't give a flying fuck about the money," I snap. " I would have liked to have been informed that it even existed."

"You knew it existed," Edward defends, speaking for the first time. "I told you years ago that I would have access to the accounts on my twenty-fifth birthday."

I vaguely recall a conversation but decide to ignore the memory.

"A reminder would have been fucking nice," I continue.

"I forgot," Edward says with a shrug. Angela and Ben think this is hilarious and laugh like loons.

"You forgot that you are now a bazillionaire?" I demand, pretty skeptical.

"You are such a fucking rich kid," Ben says, playfully shoving Edward who scowls at him again. "Who forgets something like that?"

"It's not a big deal," Edward insists. "I don't need it. Don't even really want it. Is it a big deal?" he asks, turning to me now. His eyes are wide and he looks so unsure, I feel my mad deteriorating.

"Not to me," I say, pushing a hand through the hair at his temple. "But it would have been good info to have when I was squaring off with Grandpa Cullen."

"Oh dear," Edward says, looking nervous now. "Was it really that bad?"

"Your pops is a real asshole," I mutter so only he can hear. I don't want to get into this now or to dis his family in front of our friends. Suddenly, I really need a fucking cigarette. "I'm gonna get some air," I tell him, nodding toward the exit of this country club ballroom.

"I'll go with you," Edward says, half rising from his chair. I push him back down because I really just want to be along for one little minute.

"No, stay," I say, smiling at him affectionately. "I just need one little alone minute." Edward looks unsure, so I kiss him tenderly to let him know that everything is okay. That I'm not mad at him or too upset.

He nods and I pick my way through the guests to the entrance. When I finally get outside, I take a deep breath of that Colorado air. The night is the perfect temperature and the moon is out in full force, so I can even see the basic shape of the Flatirons. The caterers are just loading up the last of their equipment.

"Hey," I ask a scrawny waiter in a clip on tie. "Can I bum a cigarette?"

He nods and even offers me a light, which I gladly accept. I'm not exactly in the habit of keeping a lighter on me these days.

I wander away from the cater waiters, just thinking about nothing in particular. I sigh in contentment as I pull smoke into my lungs, but the cancer stick doesn't give me the pleasure or relief it once did. Now I feel pretty guilty for indulging in this disgusting habit. I know Edward will taste it and smell it on me. He won't comment or really be disappointed.

But when since I quit he has made a point of often telling me how much he likes the taste of my mouth sans smoke. "I like the taste of you," he says. "Just Bella."

Richard doesn't scare me, but I really don't want to be the reason Edward is at odds with his extended family. Nothing is ever easy, I suppose.

Maybe Edward didn't tell me about the trust fund shit because he knows there is no way in hell I'll ever be a fucking kept woman. No fucking way. I don't care how much fucking money he has. We will be equals. I will contribute to our household as much as he does.

Our household. Wow. With Ben moving out, me living with Edward has a whole new meaning. The apartment will go from a place where I live with my roommate to our place. Our as in Edward's and mine. It will probably be the first of many.

Wow. We have a place. Not just some space where we store some shit, but a real live home. I can't remember ever having a place that felt like mine to do with what I wish.

This realization has my mood recovering from the dive it took gettin' my groove on with Grandpa C. But just as I smile to myself and prepare to stomp out my half smoked cig before returning to Edward, a chillingly familiar voice says my name from behind me.

Slowly, I turn, praying all the while that I'm mistaken. That this voice belongs to someone else. Anyone else. But most unfortunately, I turn to see a person I hoped to never see again.

"Aw fuck," I say, scowling. "What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

* * *

**Bum bum bum! Who the hell is it? What did we thank of Edward's wacko grandparents? Tyler and Tia? Let me know!**


	31. The Forgiveness

**Here is it. As promised.**

**Dang, you guys had some opinions about the last chapter. Pretty much half of you guessed Renee, the other half, James. And half of you are right! You all agree that Gramp Cullen sucks.**

**This chappie is a shorty (for me anyway) but goodie. I'm rather fond of the end.**

**Let me know what you thing.**

**I don't own.**

* * *

August 6, 2011

James smirks at me as he leans casually against a nearby wall. He's lurking half in the shadows, as fucking usual.

The sight of him kinda makes my tummy hurt. Fuck, I really don't want to deal with this.

I go back to smoking the cigarette I was planning on discarding a moment ago in an attempt to feel cool as a fucking cucumber when internally, I'm kinda freaking out. James is totally unpredictable and even though I'm not scared of him, I just hate not knowing what's coming.

And I really, really don't want Edward to see him.

We just stare at each other for a moment – well, I growler and he smirks – until James finally pushes off the wall and steps towards me, into the light. And he looks different. Old. Worn out. Tired. He looks like I would look if I never got healthy. Someday that party hardy lifestyle is going to catch up with him, and by the looks of the big dark circles under his eyes, that day is near.

"Damn, girl," he says, eyes raking over my body. I resist the urge to cross my arms and shield myself from his gaze. James is a total predator, and I refuse to show him any weakness or give any clue as to how uncomfortable he makes me. "You always could wear a dress. Although, you are lookin' kinda chunky these days."

I snort because I'm a size fucking two. James plays on people insecurities in order to manipulate them, but he has yet to discover any of mine.

Well, except for Edward. Back in the day.

"Is there a reason you are crashin' the party?" I drawl.

"I heard there was an open bar," he says with a shrug.

"Fuckin' Victoria," I mutter, fist clenching at my sides.

"Plus, I figured you would be here," he continues, grinning at me. Gah, I hate that grin. So fucking smarmy and cocky and just gross.

"What could you possibly want with me?" I ask. But then he eye fucks the shit out of me, and I wish I had kept that question to myself. I take another puff just for something to do with my hands.

"Thought it was 'bout time for us to catch up. Haven't you missed me?" he asks.

"Nope," I reply right quick.

"You wound me, Bella," he says, clutching his chest dramatically. "We had some good times."

"Yeah, I'm really not in to tromping down memory lane with you, James," I reply. "So if that's all, I'm just going back in now."

I turn, making my way back towards the door, but than stop immediately when I realize that James is falling in to step with me.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" I demand, stopping him by pushing my hands against his chest.

"Going to the wedding."

"No fucking way," I say, doing a lot of head shaking. "You were most definitely not invited."

"So? We crashed a party or two in our time if I recall," he says, smirking at me.

"You know, the last time we were together you said some not very nice things to me," I remind him. "What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?"

"Just rekindling our friendship," James replies. "Come on, let's go in."

"No, no, no," I say, freaking slightly. "You can't go in here."

"Why? Is it because _he's_ in there?" James demands.

"You just can't go in," I insist, glancing at the doorway in fear that Edward will come looking for me any minute.

"Fuck, I can't believe you are back with that pussy," he grumbles.

I choose to not reply, just glaring as hard as I've ever glared before. We just stand in silence, facing off. James is between me and the entrance, and I check every few moments to see if anyone I know comes out. I wrack my brain, desperately trying to figure out how to get James the fuck out of here with no one the wiser.

"Why did you do it?" he asks, his voice softer this time.

"Do what?" I demand, completely exasperated.

"All of it. The going away with me. The running back to him. I just don't get it," he says.

I shrug, having absolutely no idea what to make of that one.

"We could leave again, you know," he suggest casually. "I'm bored as shit in this hellhole. Didn't you have fun last time?"

"No. Shit. Fuck, James. This is fuckin' ridiculous. Can you just leave now, please?" I ask.

"So you don't want to do the nomad thing again?"

"No!" I yell, completely baffled by this whole interaction. "James, I'm happy. You should really try this whole get your life together thing. It's pretty great, actually.

This is apparently the wrong thing to say because James gets real fucking angry. He steps forward, completely invading my personal space and looming over me. I take half a step back in my shock before I plant my feet. Refusing to be intimidated, I scowl up at James.

"You were always such a fucking bitch," he says, getting in my face and yelling now. I wince when I smell the alcohol on his breath and suddenly his presence makes a lot more sense. "A cock-sucking little slut."

I roll my eyes because I've heard this all before. I'm relatively unfazed by his name calling.

"Such a little whore. You only stayed with me because I kept you high as a kite." His hand locks around my upper arm and I wish I'm not so fucking short.

"Fuck you, James," I reply, attempting to yank my arm away. This is so fucking not good, and I'm quickly losing hope that I will be able to handle the situation on my own.

I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing when I see Edward appear. We make eye contact around James and his face contorts into something truly scary. I open my mouth to do something because I know this can't end well. I'm not sure what I'm going to say, but nothing comes out because James won't stop fucking talking.

"You better be spreading your legs more often for him than you did for me if you want him to keep you around," James says loudly. "Don't come crawling back to me when he gets tired of your sloppy blow jobs, you dirty cunt."

Oh shit. Edward is really not going to like that.

This time when he speaks, he manages to really piss me off. Edward too, if my boys growl of rage is any indication. Edward gets to us really fucking fast, violently putting himself between James and me. Edward punches James twice – once in the jaw and once in the nose - before James falls backward on to the hard pavement. I grab hold of Edward, who looks poised to throw himself on James. But the last thing I want is Edward getting himself arrested for assault of some shit.

Edward struggles against my hold for a moment, so I move in front of him and cradle his face in my hands. I've never before seen him this angry. It's a little scary.

"Move, Isabella," he hisses, not even looking at me as he glares down at a groaning James.

"No," I insist. "Baby, that's enough. You got him good. It's over."

"Did you hear what he fucking said to you?" Edward demands, scowling at me now. "I'll fucking kill him."

"Yeah, I kinda want to let you," I agree, keeping my hands on his face until his rapid breathing calms. "But as totally cliché as it sounds, he is not worth it. He's not worth anything."

Edward takes a final large breath and his shoulders finally relax. He nods, indicating that he's back in control of those flying fists of furry.

Wow, that was kinda hot.

"What the fuck!" moans James, causing both Edward and me to look at him. His nose is bleeding all over the place, and I get a sick sense of satisfaction out of his pain. "I'll fucking kill you, mother fucker!"

Except James is blinded by his own blood and drunk, so he isn't exactly quick to get to his feet.

"I don't think so," I reply as James attempts to get up. I put one very tall heel right on his fucking nut sack and his movements still for a moment before he once again tries to get up. "Ah, ah, ah. None of that now."

I put some more pressure on his sack and he fucking whimpers. Dang, this is fun. Why have I never done this before?

By this time the commotions has been noticed and reinforcements arrive in the form of Jake, Jasper, and Tyler. They don't even really ask any questions – although Tyler does express the desire to have a camera to capture the image of me with my shoe on this bleeding asshole's dick – before they drag James away.

I turn to Edward, who still hasn't said anything. He looks at me with angry eyes and I give him a small smile, grabbing his hand.

"Let's go home," I whisper.

We have to go back in for a few minutes to say our goodbyes to various relatives and friends. I grab my purse and Edward puts his tux jacket over my shoulders.

Although we were planning on spending one more night with Alice and Jasper at the house on Goss, Edward gets right on the highway and we head for Denver. We go to our place. He is silent and tense on the car ride home, but he keeps a hand on my thigh, somewhat possessively. I wish I knew what exactly he is thinking and feeling.

When we walk through the threshold of our apartment, Edward sighs heavily and flops down on the couch, looking up at me as he struggles to loosen his tie. He is having a strangely hard time with it, and I walk over, pushing my finger through the knot. I remove the thing completely with a firm tug before popping open the first couple buttons of his dress shirt. When I'm done, I try to move my hand away, but Edward catches it and kisses the palm.

I let out a huge sigh of relief. Until now, I was irrationally scared that Edward was upset with me. He probably should be. I'm the one that brought James into our lives.

He gently pulls on my hand until I sit next to him on the couch. I run my hand over his tense shoulder as I wait for him to speak. It doesn't take long.

"Well," he says finally, sounding a bit shell shocked. "That was quite the evening."

"Yup," I reply, feeling similarly dazed.

"My brother got married," he says, still looking straight ahead.

"To a she-devil," I add.

"I got to stand next to you at the alter," he says, turning to me and smiling widely. I roll my eyes at him, but smile back anyway.

"Slow down there, buster," I reply.

We go back to silence but his hand is back on my thigh.

"You played master matchmaker," I say, shaking his shoulder. "That was awesome."

"Yeah," he says, smiling. "That was pretty cool."

"And then your grandfather swept me off my feet," I continue.

"Funny," Edward replies drying. "Very fucking funny. Are you going to tell me what he said to you, now?"

"I guess," I say with a sigh. "It's going to upset you and you are already all upset."

"I know. Let's just get this all over with at once and then we can go to bed and make ourselves feel better with a lot of good sex," he says, sounding all flustered.

"Aw, shit, dude," I say, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "How the fuck am I supposed to focus on all this serious shit when all I can picture is your naked ass."

He looks at me for a second like he considering dragging me to the bedroom but then he shakes his head and shoots me a little glare.

"Anyway, about my grandfather," he prompts.

"Right. He is a very cranky old man," I reply.

"What did he want to talk to you about?"

"Well, first he said that your preoccupation with me had gone on long enough and then accused me of coming back to get my paws on your money." Edward huffs indignantly but I plow on. "And then he was all whipping out his checkbook and offering me money to leave again."

"You have got to be kidding me," Edward snaps, eyes narrowing in his anger.

"Yeah, I know. Pretty unbelievable. Shockingly, I did not accept his generous offer. He did not like that at all so he was like, 'you don't want me for an enemy, Miss Swan' and I was all, 'fuck you ass hat.' Except I didn't say that, obviously. And lastly he said that I would be responsible for tearing apart your family so I told him that I am your family."

Edward smiles slightly at his but then starts frowning all over again.

"I am so sorry, love," he mutters, sounding really upset. I don't like this at all. "I'll talk to him. You won't have to be around him again."

"Really, Edward," I reply. "It's fine."

"It is so not fucking fine."

"Okay, yeah, you are right. It is definitely not fine. But I can deal with it. Mostly he is just a demented old geezer. We'll work it out. It's not like he's living in Boulder. We can just suck it up and deal," I reassure him. "It would be one thing if it was your parents that hated me. It is just one old man."

"Fine," he mutters. "But I will be talking to him. And to Dad about him. He has just gone way top fucking far this time."

"I'm tough. It doesn't matter because in the end, I have you."

"That you do," he agrees, squeezing my knee.

"So is it time for the sex now?" I ask hopefully, perking right up.

"No," he scolds, grabbing my hand as it sneaks up his thigh. "We have a bit more to talk about."

"We do?" I ask with a frown.

"Hello!" he replies, actually tapping my forehead three times. I bat away his hand impatiently. "James!"

"Ah," I say, scowling now. "Fuckin' James."

"Where did he come from? Why was he there? What did he say to you? Did he touch you? What the fuck?"

"Edward," I say, getting him to focus. "Calm down. "

For the thousandth time today, Edward takes a huge calming breath.

"So I was outside, just… uh…"

"Smoking," he provides helpfully. I feel and probably look guilty, but Edward gestures for me to continue.

"Right. So I bummed a cigarette from some dude and was smokin' and thinkin'—"

"What were you thinking about?" he asks gently.

"Just… what your grandpa said. And also about we are finally going to have a place. For just the two of us," I say, blushing like a mofo. As fucking usual.

"That's pretty cool," he replies.

"Yup. Anyway, I was just about to come back and find you but then James just fucking materialized out of the shadows like some goddamn horror movie or some shit."

I go on to tell Edward everything that James said and what I said back. Well, mostly. I left out a few of the names James called me, not that it really even matters being as Edward heard the worst of it first hand.

Edward just sits there stewing, and I decide to give him a moment to wallow and brood. I sit next to him, absently stroking his hair. He closes his eyes and leans in to my touch and I shimmy out of his tux jacket, draping it over the arm of the couch.

"I think you broke his nose," I muse, cuddling into to his side. Edward grins, putting his arm around me and running his fingers up and down my arm.

"Yeah. Probably."

"It was awesome. Almost as awesome as me having that fucker balls under my heel."

Edward chuckles.

"That was all pretty awe…. What the fuck is this?" Edward's whole demeanor changers. I thought we were past to worst of it and almost to the sex part, but apparently not. Edward's whole body tenses, his voice gets all dangerous, and his fingers still on my arm.

"What now?" I ask, feeling weary.

I glance down to where Edward's gaze has locked and his fingers paused. The dark bruise there was definitely not there when I put on this ridiculous bridesmaid dress before the ceremony.

Being as I'm an idiot, it takes me for fucking ever to determine where it came from.

"Oh fuck," I mutter as Edward just continues to gape and glare and sputter as if he can't even believe what he is seeing. He turns fucking purple in his rage, and for one weird moment he reminds me of my dad when he got pissed. Thinking of Charlie always hurts my heart a little, but the pang is quick. I have Edward to deal with at the moment.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," Edward says in a low, dangerous voice that even has the goose bumps rising on my skin.

"No, you're not."

"Yes," he says, rising from the couch with an eerie calm, "I am."

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" I demand, marching behind him as he moves to the kitchen to collect his keys that he tossed on the table not to long ago.

"Boulder. I'm driving back to Boulder and tearing the fucking town apart until I find that motherfucker and then I'm going to tear him apart, too." Again the calm, almost pleasant tone he is using is the scariest thing of all.

And he has to be kidding. This little dramatization isn't seriously going to lead to Boulder. But Edward moves toward the door and he looks pretty damn serious. He gets the door open a few inches before I slam it shut, using all the force of my body to do so. Edward glares down at me pressed up against his only exit, and pulls fruitlessly on the doorknob.

"Stop acting like a fucking moron," I say.

"He fucking marked you!" Okay, now he sounds at about the right level of angry. "He put his dirty fucking hands on you and marred your skin!"

"Yeah, he did a little bit, huh?" I reply, studying the purple finger marks on my upper arm. "But I bruise easy. It's not so bad."

"Not so fucking bad!" Edward screams, really losing his shit now. Both hands are in his hair as he starts to pace back and forth in front of my position at the door. He progresses to rant somewhat nonsensically. But the point is clear. He really hates James.

Not that I blame him. I'm not too fond of the fucker myself.

"Not only did he insult you and degrade you with his words, while simultaneously shitting all over what we have, but he also marked you! Bruised you! It is beyond disrespectful and I am thoroughly horrified. And then, trying to fucking get you to leave again. I'm going to kill him."

This is the third time he has said gone through this little spiel, so I figure it is my turn to step in.

"Are you sure it's even James you're mad at?" I say quietly, not able to muster the courage to even look him in the eye. I've been playing around with something terrible in my head, and I suppose it's time to share. After all, we're doing this whole honest with each other thing these days.

"What?" he says, standing still across the room from me. "Have you seen your fucking arm? Who the fuck else would I be mad at? Well, other than myself. I should never have let you go outside alone." This last statement is muttered, probably because he knows I won't like it.

I just scowl at him because that is some male superiority crap if I ever did hear any, but than I press on.

"Me," I whisper, glancing at him warily. "You could be mad at me."

Edward cocks his head to one side, observing me that way he does when I totally confuse him. I shuffle my feet, feeling awkward as he continues to study me in silence.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he asks quietly, still looking at me like I'm a crazy person.

"Because this whole thing is my fucking fault," I reply, hating the way my voice breaks with my misery. I lean back against the door, letting my head fall with a thump.

"I don't see it that way. This whole thing is his fucking fault," Edward says. He is still talking quietly and standing still as if he is afraid of spooking me. "He is responsible for his actions."

"Just as I was when I left," I say, minorly irritated that he seems so hell bent on defending me.

"Yes. That is true. But that was a long time ago. And I've seen how you changed. Everyday your actions show me that you are happy now. You aren't self-destructive like you once were, and you don't destroy those around you like you once did."

As nice as this little speech is, I still don't feel much better so I choose to ignore him.

"You had to have been scared," I murmur.

"Of what?" he asks, looking at me that way he does again.

"It was like fucking déjà vu," I continue. "You have to know what I'm talking about."

"Bella," he says with frustration. The hands are back in the hair so I know I'm driving him crazy. "I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

"Tonight was the same fucking situation. Big party, ever one is all happy. I need a break from all the happy and wander off on my own to think and to just… catch my breath. James happens upon me and suggests we take off," I say. Edward just stares at me somewhat blankly.

I cross my arms over my chest, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.

"It wasn't the same situation at all," he insists.

For whatever reason, his calm and sure response really irritates me.

"Are you telling me that there wasn't a tiny moment of doubt? Do you really expect me to believe that when you first saw me outside with James, you didn't think for even one moment that I was about to take off again?" These terrible words seem to explode out of me, leaving Edward looking even more shocked than before, but his reply is immediate and his words are spoken with such conviction, I can't help but believe him.

"No," he states simply. "Not for one moment did I think you were going to leave again. The thought did not even cross my mind until now. But you obviously thought about it."

"I didn't think about leaving!" I say quickly, horrified by the idea. "I thought about you thinking that I might be thinking of leaving."

He just goes back to staring at me from across our living room and I realize I'm probably not making much sense.

"Look," I continue after taking a deep breath. "I know you don't trust me yet. Well, hopefully it is a yet. And I know you haven't forgiven me, but—"

"What did you say?"

Him constantly asking me "what" tonight is getting really irritating.

"Which part?" I ask, not really sure what he doesn't understand. Edward and I are usually so on the same fucking page, it is really disconcerting when we don't communicate well.

"This not trusting, not forgiving horseshit," he says.

"Horseshit?" I repeat lamely.

And now I'm being fucking studied again. I scowl and huff at him because I'm still not too good at sharing my emotions and shit. It's so much easier to just shut down and get defensive.

But I won't because I don't do that anymore.

"Come here," he murmurs, holding a hand out to me. Part of me wants to be a child and refuse, but I know touching him well make me feel better. I shuffle towards him, and he pulls me into his arms. He leads me back to the couch, sitting us on the edge so our bodies are angled towards each other.

I was making a point about something before he interrupted me but I can't fucking remember what the fuck I was trying to say.

"Now," he says, smoothing out my furrowed brow and tilting my face towards his. "What is this horseshit about me not trusting or forgiving you?"

"Uh… because you don't trust me and haven't forgiven me?" I venture.

"What would ever give you that idea?" he asks.

"Maybe because you haven't told me otherwise!" I shout.

"Oops."

"OOPS!" I screech, absolutely at the end of my rope. "Are you telling me that you've forgiven me and you trust me and you just didn't bother to let me know?"

I punch him in the arm for good measure, just so he knows how stupid he is.

"Damn, you've got boney hands," he mutters. I just scowl at him until he realizes I need a fucking explanation. "I just… I didn't know you needed the words. I thought you knew by the progress of our relationship. I thought you knew because I show you every day by letting you in to every little part of my life."

"Oh. Right." His words are so heartfelt and they make so much sense, I feel pretty fucking stupid.

"I'm sorry, love," he murmurs, his fingertips on my cheekbones. "I should have said something."

"It's okay," I reply. "I should have known."

I'm a little surprised to realize that I'm kinda crying. Fuck, I hate crying. But I'm just so fucking relieved to hear that he forgives me. That he trusts me. That he has let me in to every part of his life.

"How would you have known?" he continues. "I _am_ a fucking moron."

"You're _my_ fucking moron," I correct, causing him to grin crookedly.

"Isabella," he says, taking my face in between both his hands. "I forgive you. I forgive you for leaving me so suddenly. And although your methods did hurt me, I am no longer angry. I'm just so… thankful that you came back to me like this. You did what you needed to do to get happy, and I could never begrudge you that. I love you and I trust you. I know that you will be there every night when I fall asleep and I also know that you will be somewhere in the general vicinity when I wake up. Get it now?"

I'm too emotional to do anything but nod and collapse forward into his neck. Edward just sits with me in his arms for a long time.

Although, when I think about it, I'm pretty sure I've known for a while that Edward has forgiven me. It's his nature. That's how he operates. Edward has always been too quick to let me get away with all shorts of shit. – jerking him around throughout college, getting him punched out twice in less than twelve hours, screaming at him in the hospital, leaving him in Forks, using him to make the demons go away, not telling him about our baby and disappearing again. Maybe his willingness to forgive me is his flaw, his major weakness. But in this moment I vow to never take advantage of him again. I vow to be worthy of his seemingly endless supply of trust.

It's humbling to realize someone so good loves and trusts me. Edward has given me way more chances than I deserve. This will be the last one.

Also, I think that even though he has forgiven me, I haven't really forgiven myself yet.

That's the next step, I suppose. Forgiving myself.

* * *

**So this confrontation was a long time coming. Edward sure likes to punch James! Howabout Bella getting a piece of the action, huh? **

**We're nearing the end now. Leave me some love. Or hate. Or constructive criticism. Or whatever.**


	32. In The Beginning

**I split this chapter. Again. So there is going to be one more chapter after this, plus the epi. I don't even know why I bother planning anything when it comes to writing. **

**This chapter may be my favorite. **

**Thank everyone for the reading and the review and the recing. It makes me so happy.**

* * *

September 30, 2012

EPOV

"Bella?" I call out, neatly placing my shoes on the rack by the door and hanging my backpack on its designated hook. I run a hand through my hair and stretch my shoulders, tying to relax for the first time since I left our apartment at seven this morning.

"In the kitchen," she replies over the loud music. This, combined with the mouth-watering smells drifting through the apartment lead me to believe that Bella is cooking dinner. Thank goodness. I haven't eaten all damn day.

Grabbing a stack of mail off the coffee table, I move towards her.

Very little besides the architectural lay out remains of the apartment I moved into after finishing undergrad all those years ago. Since Ben moved out, Bella has reveled in having her own space to decorate. Slowly but surely she painted, found pieces at flea markets, and rearranged furniture. Our apartment now reflects her eclectic, exotic tastes as well as my need to have everything in place. The decorations are bright, bohemian, and a little bit weird, but uncluttered.

Bella transformed Ben's old room into a sort of study. It includes my large, old desk as well as a sofa where she prefers to do her work, and a whole wall of bookshelves. Most nights, we can be found there, me studying away for a perpetual array of brain melting tests and her, always writing. Bella does reviews for the arts and entertainment section of the Denver Post and has a weekly column in an electronic publication that is a favorite amongst those in our age group. Her fiction is also published regularly in a plethora of literary magazines.

Between all of that and her rent from Charlie's house in Forks, she contributes much more to our household than I do. I think this pleases her, especially after years of being finically dependent on others. My trust fund remains untouched except for my tuition.

Now, she is basically my sugar mama.

"Hey," Bella says, grinning over her shoulder from her place at the stove. She looks so damn beautiful and domestic in her simple outfit of jeans and a t-shirt with a spatula in her hand. I ditch the mail on the kitchen table in favor of wrapping my arms around her waist and laying my chin on her shoulder. She giggles and squirms but still manages to continue to cook dinner, which is a divine looking stir-fry, as I kiss her neck.

"Watch it, you horn dog," she scolds as I grind myself into her butt and slip my hands under her t-shirt. "I'm tryin' to cook your fucking dinner over here."

I ignore her and continue to run my lips over her skin. Bella shivers which pleases me endlessly. She has never been to good at pretending to be unaffected by my presence. With an irritated huff she yanks my face towards hers and gives me a quick yet heated kiss.

"Now," she says, scowling at me again. "Make up your mind. What exactly are you hungry for? Because if you continue this little seduction dinner is either going to burn or get cold, and I spent lots of hard earned money on local veggies so this meal would be particularly delicious and good for the environment and shit."

I just smile at her because she is so damn adorable.

"Well!" she snaps, finally losing patience with me.

"Dinner, then," I reply with an exaggerated sigh. Bella gestures towards our small kitchen table, demanding that I sit.

I do as she requests, going back to the mail because if I spend any more time looking at her, I'll probably change my mind about which type of hunger is more pressing, and I get the feeling that Bella would really rather eat first.

"How was the test?" she asks, continuing to move in front of the stove.

"I don't even want to think about it," I groan, dramatically letting my head fall to the table top. "My brain hurts. Three hours and thirty percent of our grade for one mid-term is just cruel."

Bella gives me a small smile and runs her hand quickly through my hair on her way to get something out of the pantry. "I'm sure you fucking rocked that shit," she says. "I've barely seen you at all in the last week you have been so study focused."

"Thus me trying to seduce you," I mutter. "But you were having none of that, if you recall."

"Later," she says, smirking at me over her shoulder as she adds chicken to the already full wok. "I'll make it worth the wait."

That's Bella code for blowjob. I'm totally getting a blowjob in the next few hours, and it's difficult for me to remain seated at the table instead of touching her.

"Don't even think about it, babe," she says, shaking her head with her back to me. "I want dinner first."

I just sigh and lay my head back down. I even close my eyes.

'That must have been some test," Bella muses.

"What do you mean?"

"You are actually letting us eat first," she says. I feel her near me and open my eyes as she places a huge plate of stir-fry in front of me. "You must be worn out."

"My eyeballs hurt," I explain. Somehow I conjure the patience to wait for her to sit across from me before I start shoveling food down my throat.

We sit in silence for a bit, enjoying the wonderful meal. She seriously is a damn good cook. I am so fucking lucky in more ways than one. I get enough food in my belly to turn me back into a rational, thinking being.

"What did you do today?" I ask as Bella pulls at the tie holding her long hair in a messy knot at the top of her head. I watch, entranced, as the waves spill down around her shoulders, and it is harder than it should be to focus on her answer.

"I got a sneak peak at the latest exhibit at the Museum of Nature and Science which was pretty damn cool. It was just a handful of press and our own private tour guide which fucking rocked. Goddamn, I love museums." Bella always looks so gorgeous when she speaks about something she is passionate about and her whole face lights up.

"What's the exhibit like?" I ask.

"You'll just have to read the damn article like the rest of my adoring public," she says with a giggle. "Just because you are sleeping with a Denver Post underling doesn't mean you get the juicy stuff early."

"I was under the impression we were doing a whole lot more than simply sleeping together," I reply in what Bella has dubbed my nerdy professor voice.

Bella grins before abruptly standing, leaning across the table, and giving me another kiss, this one more tender and lingering.

"How's the column coming this week?" I ask when she returns to her seat and goes back to her meal. Mostly I ask because I'm genuinely interested, but I'm also trying to distract myself from the urge to clear the table with a sweep of my arm, sending plates smashing to the floor below, and taking her right here.

It's not like I haven't done it before. We'll with less plate smashing, but still.

Bella would kill me for wasting all this glorious food.

"Really good," Bella replies. "I'm doing another in the 'Perils and perks of dating a med student' series."

I roll my eyes at this.

Bella has a small but devoted internet following that readers her column weekly religiously. This does not surprise me. She loves it because she has the freedom to write about whatever strikes her fancy. Things she hates about the world around her, things she loves, things she observes, and things she can't get out of her head. Bella's commentaries are always full of a self-deprecating humor. She makes fun of everyone, herself included, in a way that is good natured and respectful.

I just with I wasn't such an inspiration sometimes.

"Is it a perk or a peril this time?" I ask with a chuckle.

"A little of both," she replies, biting her lip.

"Oh good grief, what is it this time?"

"I'm thinking about discussing anatomically correct dirty talk," she admits. "Which to me is a total perk. Your big old brain is so damn sexy. But some might think its pretty damn weird."

"I swear, Isabella," I say with a sigh. "My family reads your column. If we actually met any of your followers, I would die of embarrassment."

"I can write about something else, if you prefer," she offers sincerely.

"No, it's fine. I wouldn't dream of censoring your art." What would I tease her about if she didn't write such things?

"Good. Anatomically correct dirty talk it is."

Bella and I continue to chat about nothing in particular during dinner. We finish, lingering over a final glass of wine, and I absently flip through the stack of mail I left on the table.

My fingers pause on a letter when a return address Boston, and suddenly my care free, all be it tired, mood vanishes.

Bella continues to talk about something, and I have a hard time hearing her. She moves to clear the table, and I open the letter, feeling a bit like I might be sick.

I don't know what I want the letter to say.

BPOV

"What is it?" I ask as I continue to clean the kitchen. Although jumping my man's bones is a more immediate desire, Edward and all his wacko is unable to leave the kitchen dirty over night. Several times in the past, I've caught him sneaking out of bed, thinking I'm asleep, to tend to his OCD. I don't like him leaving after sex, thus the pre-fucking kitchen cleaning. Edward typically helps out. But the mail has obviously distracted him.

Edward – champion mutitasker – seems to have lost the ability to speak. I turn from my position at the sink as I put the last pan on the drying rack, pleased that the kitchen is now Edward-clean.

"Baby?" I venture again when he just continues to stand by the kitchen table, brow furrowed as he stares at the paper clenched in his hand.

I don't much care about the mail. Edward has not fucked me in five days. But now it is the end of the week and his big ass test is over. I made him a kick ass meal and then power cleaned the kitchen. A fucking letter will not stop me from having him.

Right the fuck now.

Edward mumbles something unintelligible, and I sigh, realizing that I'm going to need to be a bit more assertive here.

I grab his hand, leading him into the bedroom.

"This is a letter," he says as he blindly follows me, allowing me to push him down on the end of our bed.

"I can see that," I reply, smoothing out the wrinkles in his forehead with my thumb. Holy Krishna, he is so fucking adorable when he is flustered. This piece of paper has him seriously flustered, and I do want to know why. Just later.

"It… um…. It, uh, ah." His stuttering is so damn adorable.

I kick off my shoes before dropping to my knees to remove his as well, doing the same with the socks.

"This is a letter from— What are you doing down there?" I smirk up at him, pleased that his voice is all husky and that I finally have his full attention.

"What do you think, baby?" I ask, basically purring at him as I run my hands over his calves then around to his inner thighs, following the seam of his neat jeans.

I palm the wonder cock and Edward lets out a little yelp, the letter falling to the bed beside him. His eyes glaze over and I suppress a shiver. I love getting on my knees for Edward. His reactions make me feel powerful and sexy. He is totally at my mercy and it's such a turn on.

Except this time, when I move to his zipper, his hands stop me.

What the fuck is in that letter?

I scowl up at him, seriously considering punching him in the thigh.

"Wait," he says, somewhat breathlessly. "Shit...uh. Damn, Bella. You're making it very difficult for me here."

"By difficult do you mean _hard_?" I ask, giving him a squeeze through the denim and waggling my eyebrows.

He lets out a groan, his head falling backwards for a moment before he once again stops me from unleashing the beast.

With a loud huff, I sit back on my heels, crossing my arms over my chest. It is clear that I will probably get what I want quicker if I just let him spit out whatever is so important he is turning down a blow job.

A Bella Swan Blow Job.

What a freak.

"The letter is from a hospital in Boston," he bursts out, his brow back to furrowed.

"Okay…" I say, this information pretty much useless to me.

"I was accepted into their surgical internship program," he says quietly, avoiding my gaze. Damn, my boy looks a wee bit guilty.

"I thought you were planning on doing your internship here, I say, wary.

"I was," he insists. "Am. Was. Am." Edward stutters, his face fluctuating comically with each word as he changes his mind.

"Edward…" I say, laying a hand on his knee, trying to get him to focus him. "Do you want to do your internship in Boston?"

"I just… It was a total long shot, my application. That's why I didn't tell you. I never thought I'd get into this program but Carlisle convinced me to try. They only accept something like twenty applicants out of the hundreds that apply. I'm so sorry I haven't said anything but I honestly haven't thought about it in months."

I roll my eyes because he is in full on freak out mode with the babbling and the hands in the hair and the panicky lookin' eyes.

"Edward!" I shout to get his attention. I can't help but giggle at the horrified look on his face. "It's okay. I'm not mad. Calm the fuck down."

I wait for Edward to take a deep breath before continuing.

"This program in Boston, is it a top notch intern thingamajiggy?" I ask, failing to find the right words. Thingamajiggy? I am a disgrace to writers everywhere.

"Thingamajiggy?" Edward replies, amused. At least my pathetic vocabulary has relieved Edward of his tension a bit.

"Well, is it?" I demand.

"Yes," he says, grinning now. "One of the best in the country." Edward then progress to gush about a whole shit ton of doctor crap. His whole face lights up and he is all cardiology this and world famous attending that. He gestures with his hands and his eyes are bright.

"So it looks like we are movin' to Boston," I say, smiling up at him from my position on the floor.

"What?" he snaps, gaping at me in shock.

"Bean Town," I continue. "Former hot bed of revolutionary spirit! Place where our founding fathers chilled and shit. The Boston Tea Party probably happened in Boston right? Give me liberty, or give me death!"

"What?" he repeats.

"It's good that we're decided upon this now. That means we have like seven, eight months to figure out shit before we move right? Because you still have to finish this last year."

"What? I mean…we uh…I thought…" He clears his throat and composes himself. "Shouldn't we talk about this? I mean, we planned to stay here. Our lives are here. Your work is here. We should discuss this."

"Edward, when you talk about the programs here your face never lights up and your voice never gets all excited. You want to do this. I haven't seen you this enthusiastic about anything in for fucking ever." I tell him. "Besides me, of course."

Edward just stares at me for a long ass time. Like he is still trying to figure me out.

"Just like that?" he asks finally.

"Yeah," I reply with a grin and a shrug. Is it really so surprising that I would do anything for him? He has done so much for me. Like waiting till I'm ready to get married, for example, when he wanted to tie the knot right after we got back together over a year and a half ago.

"But—"

"I can write anywhere," I say, anticipating his first argument.

"And—"

"It's only for a year. And I've always wanted to do the whole east coast thing. We are long overdue for an adventure," I tell him.

"But do you understand what it's going to be like?" Edward continues. "I'm going to be working crazy hours and I won't be around much. You won't know anyone."

"I make friends easy," I reply with a shrug.

Edward just gives me a pointed look and I laugh.

"Edward, it will be great," I assure him. "I'm a big girl. We'll figure it out."

"We'll think about it," he says, being all Edwardish and thinky.

"We're doin' it," I counter, being all Bellaish and impulsive.

Edward just sighs heavily, like I'm trying his patience. But he has a little smile playing around his lips, so I know he is pleased with my reaction to the letter.

"We should get married first," I hear myself say. The words just seem to pop out of my mouth. I'm not sure who is more shocked by them, Edward or myself.

He recovers first.

"Are you proposing?" he asks finally, his face unreadable.

I decide humor is the way to go.

"I'm down on my knees, aren't I?" I quip.

Edward smirks, leaning down from his position on the bed to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I believe the phrase is down on one knee. Where's my ring?"

"I'm not that traditional."

"Obviously," Edward says with a chuckle.

And then there is silence. Very tense silence.

"Come here," Edward murmurs, offering me a hand and pulling me to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. "Do you mean it?"

_Do_ I mean it?

I glance over at Edward, who is managing to look both nervous and elated at the same time. I think about how fucking great the last year and a half has been and about how much I've come to depend on him. I try to imagine my life without him in it and totally fail.

Yeah, I fuckin' mean it.

"It's just before when we've talk about it." Edward continues, stuttering now. Apparently I took too long to answer because now his babbling has started. "I just thought we were planning on waiting till I'm a real doctor."

"Yeah, well, you are going to be crazy busy being a real doctor and with the moving and the graduating… it just makes sense to do it now," I say, turning bright fucking red because that is the least romantic marriage proposal I can think of.

"I want to be married to you yesterday," Edward states, turning my face towards his. "Do you want to be married to me?"

"Yes," I reply, flushing from roots to tits. "I love you."

"So, we're really doing this?" he asks, the very beginnings of the crooked grin reserved just for me on his face.

"Yes," I manage to squeak out before he kisses me, pushing me back on the bed.

I've known for a long time Edward was meant to be with me. And I him. Now, it's time to make it official.

Just like that.

October 8, 2012

We attend dinner the next week with the crazies in Boulder and we have yet to tell anyone. We are enjoying having a little secret.

Tomorrow we see the Cullen parents for lunch to make the announcement, but we never really talked about telling the rest of the brood. We probably should seeing as I want to get this sucker done as quick as possible.

Rosalie is being all show-offy with her giant, ready-to-pop belly, and Alice is being all show-offy with the now eight-month-old Henry James Whitlock, who really is pretty fucking cute.

Somehow, I get all caught up in their battle of domesticity as all of us relax after dinner with a bottle of wine. Okay, several bottles of wine.

"Alice, are you free to go shopping at all next week?" I ask. The gasps are audible as all heads snap towards me in shock.

"You are willing going shopping with Alice?" Rosalie demands incredulously. "What the fack? I thought you said you found shopping with Alice torturous? Why am I not invited?"

"You wouldn't fit in the dressing room," Emmett says, laughing loudly at his own joke. A single look from Rose silences him.

Idiot.

"I'm free," Alice replies cautiously. "Why?"

"I need a new dress," I say, flushing as I realize that this is a ridiculous way to make this announcement. But I'm committed now.

"What for?" Alice continues.

I glance at my betrothed. Edward raises an eyebrow at me, taking a deliberately slow drink of wine. I guess I'm on my own here. "Oh. You know," I say casually. "Edward and I were thinking about getting married within the next couple weekends."

My faked nonchalance is met with stunned silence for a moment before they all freak out at once. Alice and Rose are shrieking at me, Jasper is singing jovially, and Emmett is shaking Edward's hand with an unhealthy amount of gusto.

"Shut up!" Alice yells. It's startling because she is so damn small. "Bella," she demands when everyone immediately quiets. "Did you just say what we think you just said?"

"Yes," I reply with an extreme blush.

A chorus of "finally's," "'bout time's," and "oh, thank God's," ring out from around the table.

"Ooh, lemme see your—" Alice stops speaking abruptly, glaring down at my still bare finger on my left hand. "Where's your ring? Edward, how could you propose without a ring?"

She leans across me to flap my hand obnoxiously in Edward's face.

"I didn't," Edward replies, smirking at me.

"Oh, was it too big?" Rose interjects. "Mine didn't fit. Em must think I have man hands."

"Aw, come on, babe," Emmett replies. "If you had man hands, I would have never let you near wee Emmett, and that's obviously not the care, am I right?" Emmett waggles his eyebrows at Rose's belly before she smacks him.

Emmett sucks at Rose being prego.

"Dude," I say, gaping at my brother-in-law to be. "You call your dick wee Emmett?"

"Please don't say dick in front of my son," says Alice primly, even thought little Henry – who I call Hank, mostly because it drives Alice crazy – is out for the count in his papa's arms.

"Why not, Ali?" Jasper asks. "Our little man is packin' some serious heat in the diaper department if you know what I'm talkin' 'bout!"

"Get some," Emmett yells, giving Jazz a high five.

Edward and I silently communicate our opinions on the deterioration of this "we're getting married" conversation. He rolls his eyes, and I flash him a rueful grin.

"The father's of our children, Alice," Rosalie mutters, gesturing toward Em and Jazz. "What were we thinking?"

Poor little Alice looks like her head might pop off, bottle rocket style.

"The ring!" she snaps. "Little twin, the ring!"

"Alice, relax," I say, patting her shoulder. "There is no ring."

"What? Why would you say yes to no ring? Didn't Beyonce warn you about this situation? Really, Edward," Alice continues, rounding on my fiancé – damn that's weird. "How could you?"

"I didn't," he repeats. We share a secret little look.

Edward thinks it's really fucking funny that _I_ proposed to _him_. I guess I can kinda see what her means given my history as a commitment-phobe and what now.

"I don't get it," declares Jasper. Everyone murmurs his or her agreement.

"Bella proposed to me," Edward explains, beaming at me now. And my blush is back with a vengeance.

"No fucking way," says Emmett in apparent awe. I look around the table at my family and see disbelief in every face. Is my proposal really _that_ shocking? "Bella Swan asked _you_ to marry _her_?"

"Got down on one knee and everything," Edward says, grabbing my hand and kissing me knuckles. I scowl because he looks a little too pleased with himself.

"It was two knees and I was down there for a very different reason," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest and getting all huffy.

Jazz and Em high five again, Rosalie snorts, Alice wrinkles her nose, and Edward rolls his eyes.

"Edward." Rose voices her disbelief this time. "How the hell did you manage to weasel your way into a marriage proposal and a blowie? How the hell does that happen?"

Edward clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. He is so fucking cute when he's uncomfortable.

"I never actually received any… uh…" Edward stutters, gesturing to his lap and doing this weird thing with his eyebrows.

"You're a soon to be medical professional," Emmett puts in. "You should be able to say blowjob. Say it!"

"He's a med student, not a hooker, Emmett," I reply dryly before turning back to Edward. "And holy fack! You're right! I owe you a BJ."

"Owe him?" Emmett sputters as Edward's cheeks get all red.

"Yeah," I reply, shrugging. "I can't remember why though. Oh! Right. I owe him because he let us eat the nice dinner I made before molesting me."

"So he get's a fancy dinner, a marriage proposal, and a blowie?" Jasper clarifies. "Damn, y'all are acting like newlyweds already."

"Enough," Alice says, beyond exasperated with us all. "Please just tell us the story."

"Well," I say, fielding this one because Edward is still all flustered from this talk of head. He is braving it like a champ. Perhaps he deserves two blowies.

Also, when did we start calling them blowies?

"Edward and I were just talkin' about him doin' his internship in Boston and—"

I'm once again rudely interrupted as everyone goes completely ape shit.

"You're moving to fucking Boston?" Alice finally manages to ask when everyone calms slightly.

"Yes," I say.

"Maybe," Edward replies at the same time.

"Edward!" I snap, scowling at him because I'm already tired of having this debate.

"Bella!" he whines back.

"Edward," I repeat, at the very end of my patience. We have been having this fight for the last week and I'm so done with it. "Boston is not only the best option for your career and for your future as a bad ass doctor, but it's what you want. You're all excited about it and you know we're going to end up there so why don't you just save us all the trouble and accept the damn enrollment. Now!"

Edward sighs heavily, shaking his head at me and smiling slightly. I glare at him, my back thunking against my chair as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Holy mother of pearl," Alice mutters. "You're moving to Boston. I'm going to miss you both so much."

She lays her head on my shoulder, and I pat her dark hair, trying not to cry.

"It's only for a year," Edward says quietly. We make eye contact, and I know we are going to move across the country. I'm going to completely start over again. Except time the life we build will be ours. I'll be starting over with my husband.

"Aw, look at you two," says Jasper. "All grown up and heading out on your own."

"Congratu-fucking-lations!" Emmett booms.

"Huzzah!" shouts Rose.

Alice moves away from me, which is good because all of a sudden, I need to touch Edward. I lean over, wrapping my arms around this man that seems to be specially crafted just for me. It hits me that we are really getting married and planning our futures together. I realize how far I've come from the lost soul hiding in the party girl that first tumbled into Edward's bed. He changed everything for me. He made me better, stronger, happier. And now that we are all grown up, I have no more doubts.

Edward holds me, and I know I'm ready.

"So you are sure you want to do this so quickly?" Edward asks me as we lay facing each other and naked in bed later that night. I'm really enjoying engagement sex. It is so damn intense and emotional and fucking awesome. "We could do the whole wedding thing with you in the dress and the church and the whole bit."

"Naw," I reply, touching his face. "I don't want any of that shit. I already feel married to you and I just want it to be official, no frills necessary."

"I feel married to you, too," he murmurs.

"Let's get married in Boulder, somewhere outside," I suggest. "I'll wear something pretty and let's only invite the family."

"Sounds perfect, wifey."

October 15, 2012

I finally become Mrs. Edward Cullen a two weeks after my impromptu bedroom proposal. As per my request, it is a small, simple affair, attended by only by a few. Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rose, Alice, Jasper, and little baby Hank as well as Jake, Billy, and Phil watch as I stand across Edward in an open space against the back drop of the Flatirons.

It is one of the gloriously warm and sunny fall days, and I take the good weather as a sign from the universe that this union is destined to be.

To be honest, I don't really need the legalities or the ceremony. I feel married to Edward, soul married. I would have been fine bopping down to City Hall, but Edward deserves a real wedding so a real wedding I give him. It may be small and outside, but I wear a white dress and a little preacher man has us recite vows. Alice takes pictures with a giant camera, our concession to her since she was all pouty about not getting to plan a big party.

It is good to have them here. It is good to be surrounded by family.

But once I face Edward and he takes my hands in his and starts repeating words of love and commitment and forever, the man I love totally fills my head. I cry a little as he promises himself to me. He cries a little as I do the same. I cry a little more because, shit, I've come along way. Even a year ago, I still hadn't really figured out how to trust myself, how to forgive myself for hurting the people who love me.

But I have now. I'm confident in myself, just as I'm confident in Edward and us as a couple. Thus the whole marriage thing.

Holy fuck. I'm married. It's a bit surreal.

There is kissing and hugging and more crying on everyone's part, and then we go back to Alice and Jasper's to eat and drink.

We laugh and celebrate well in to the night. Esme starts referring to be as her daughter and I cry a little more. Edward and I dance on the back porch of the house where we first fell in love. My lack of coordination isn't so apparent when I'm in my husband's arms. He hums in my ear and whispers words of love, causing me to cry a little bit more.

Pleasantly drunk, Edward and I leave our family at the house on Goss and roam the streets of Boulder for the first time as man and wife. Well, we don't really roam. Edward made us reservations at some fancy old hotel off Pearl Street. I'm in not particular hurry to reach our destination. We now officially have forever.

But the walk and the cool autumn night and the fact that Edward is now mine in every sense of the word all seem to serve as the most potent form of aphrodisiac. By the time we stumble in to the lobby, I can't seem to keep my hands or lips off him.

I'm sure the hotel and our honeymoon suite is all very nice, but I don't notice any of it. Edward's presence is all consuming, from the way he kisses me in the elevator as if I'm precious, to the way he gently pushes in to me after lying me down on the bed in our room.

Our lovemaking is quiet, intense, and motivated more by love than lust.

He tells me he loves me and I tell him that I've always been his.

We don't leave the room for two days, and by the end I can't really even remember what I was waiting for, what I was so scared of.


	33. In The End

**This is it. Finally. I mean it this time. Just an epilogue will follow. Well, an epilogue or twelve, knowing me. **

**Thank you for sticking with me. **

**Seriously, the support and the reviews and the recommendations for this story have been mind boggling.**

**Thank you to Tiffanyanne3 and Twimarti for slowly but surely helping me beta this monster. Also all the girls that have had to listen to me whine and angst right along with my characters.**

**Oh, also. Last chapter a couple of you pointed out that I named Alice's kid Henry JAMES. Opps. That probably wouldn't happen but ever one in my family has James for a middle name and it was late at night. I'll fix it.**

**Put me on alert if you want to read the new craziness I'm workin on.**

**Thank you**

* * *

May 16, 2013

A week after finishing classes forever, Bella and I begin our preparations to move. A friend of Mom's own several buildings in downtown Boston, and Bella and I will live in a small attic apartment of one of her brownstones for basically nothing. In exchange for extremely cheap rent, Bella and I will take on the responsibilities of property manager to the two families who inhabit the lower rooms.

Alice is especially offended by our decision to move at the beginning of the summer rather than the end, but my wife and I want time to settle.

Wife. I have a wife. Bella is my wife.

For a long time, I never really thought we would ever get here, no matter how much I wanted it. And now that she is finally with me, I take my vows very seriously. I plan to cherish her everyday.

Like taking her on our long overdue honeymoon, for example.

After the move, I'm taking Bella to Italy for an entire month to celebrate my graduation and make up for failing to give her a honeymoon last fall.

Sometimes I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Bella is my wife. Getting what you want more than anything is a little scary, but I've never been happier.

Despite the positive outlook on the future, moving is a giant pain in the ass, and I've been forced to leave my wife at home to pack as I venture out to buy more boxes. She woke me with her mouth on mine, but then unceremoniously kicked me out of bed before I could touch her anywhere else.

The whole thing made me rather cranky, and I plan on seducing her to cheer myself up as I awkwardly drag flat cardboard boxes toward the elevator in our apartment building.

In another week, this building will no longer be my home. How strange.

I stand next to a small, dark-haired woman who stares anxiously at the elevator door. I don't recognize her, which is strange because this building has been my home for the last four years, and I pretty much know everyone.

We stand in silence for a moment before I realize the button has not been pushed. I assumed this mystery woman, with her sad yet oddly familiar features and worn attire, summoned the elevator. Now I awkwardly reach in front of her, pushing the button. She jumps, noticing me for the first time as I mumble an apology, gazing at me with dull blue eyes rimmed with red.

"Is everything all right?" I ask, concerned by her erratic behavior.

The many lines around her eyes become more apparent as she frowns at me.

"I've been standing here for fifteen minutes, trying to gather the courage to do what you just did." Her voice is croaky and harsh, and I try not to wince.

"What?" I ask, blinking at her in confusion. "Push the button?"

She nods solemnly as the doors open. I step in before turning to look at her. After a momentary hesitation, she joins me.

"What floor?" I ask, trying to be polite.

"Fifth."

I push the one button, because it's my floor as well.

"Are you new to the building?" I ask in an attempt to alleviate some of this inexplicable tension. She is so familiar and my brain struggles to identify her. Perhaps if I do, this feeling of apprehension I've had since I realized she hadn't pushed the button will cease.

"No," she replies, her voice sounding slightly better, as if she is just getting used to using it again. "I'm visiting my daughter. I haven't seen her in five years."

"Ah," I reply, not knowing what else to say.

"Are you moving?" she asks after a moment of silence, nodding toward the stack of deconstructed boxes at my side.

"Yes," I reply. "To Boston at the end of the week."

The doors slide open, and I sigh with relief, thankful I will no longer be forced to make strained conversation with this stranger.

But my feeling of dread continues as the woman moves in the direction of my apartment. I follow her down the hall, my brain working even harder to place her face.

It is not until she stops in front of my apartment that I figure it out.

Holy fuck. Renee Swan. Or Dwyer. Or whatever the fuck her name is these days.

I berate myself for not recognizing her sooner. Although, in defense to myself, the years have not treated Renee kindly. I only met her once, very briefly, while with Bella on Pearl St. She caught me groping her daughter on a bench, and then she and Bella walked a little distance away and fought. No introductions were even made.

Still, nothing remains of that prim, coiffed housewife, as far as I can tell.

Her sweater sets and slacks have been replaced with a dirty t-shirt and a dirty, gauzy skirt. Her hair is messy, just like her daughter's in texture but lighter in shade. It now even has a few dreadlocks and feathers. Her face is pale. Her skin is sagging and thin. Dark circles reside under her red eyes. Her lips are cracked and she appears skinner than Bella at her unhealthiest.

Renee just stands in front of my door, and I just stand behind her, shocked and scrambling for a solution.

My first instinct is to protect my wife. The sickly woman in front of me has caused the woman I love extreme hurt. Suddenly furious, I want to scream at Renee until she leaves, never to return again.

I don't know why she's here and don't really give a damn. What she did to her daughter is unforgivable. The urge to force her away is strong.

But Bella has never much appreciated me fighting her fights for her.

In the last few years, Bella has been confronting her demons. The woman before me is the cause, the root of Bella's fear. This woman made my beautiful, intelligent, strong wife believe she was worthless and unlovable. But Bella is better now and would want to decide how to deal with Renee herself.

I just hope Bella survives the fall out.

Wincing as I remember the near comatose state Bella resided in for months after Renee disappeared last time, I clear my throat to keep Renee from knocking on my door.

"Can I help you?" I ask, moving to position myself between the worthless woman and my door.

"Who are you?" Renee asks, glaring at me now. For the first time I really see the resemblance between mother and daughter.

"I'm Edward. I live here," I explain, unlocking the door and stepping inside the entrance to my apartment.

"Oh," Renee says, blinking her dull eyes at me in surprise. "I thought… Are you Bella's roommate?"

I smile humorlessly. It's fucking amazing that Renee has managed to track down her daughter's address but somehow missed the fact that we are newlyweds. I decide not to correct her.

"Was there something you wanted with her?" I ask, filling up the whole doorway.

"I have a right to see her," Renee snaps when I block her way. "She's my daughter."

I don't like her tone, or the fact that she still even sees herself as a real mother. Bella needs to mentally prepare to see Renee again. I decide to turn Renee away, to get contact information, and then tell Bella everything. That way Bella can decide to see Renee on her own terms.

Or not see her at all.

But of course my love chooses this moment to speak from some hidden location in the apartment.

"You know, baby," she calls, causing me to turn towards her voice. "I'm a little disappointed it took you so long to get home. You know how horny packing makes me."

She appears from the kitchen, walking towards me dressed only in boy short panties and a matching black sports bra. She slowly approaches, still not able to see Renee from this angle. I try to warn my wife, but the words die on my tongue when she smiles.

She's been so happy.

And I panic because I'm helpless to protect her from this.

Bella saunters up to me, slipping her hand under the hem of my dark t-shirt and splaying her fingers over my abdominal muscles.

This is probably an inappropriate time to want to fuck her, but I can't help it. Especially as she moves her hand lower.

I remember who is in the doorway, have a coughing fit, and grab her hand. I look pointedly towards the door, but my wife has a one-track mind.

How awkward.

"Baby," she says with a laugh as I stutter and sputter. "What has you so flustered?"

I simply open the door all the way, showing her rather than telling her when words fail me.

Bella turns towards the door, a hand still wrapped around my belt buckle. The smile falls off her face and her eyes go wide when she takes in the sight of the woman in the doorway. I see her whole body tenses. Her jaw tightens, her fists clench, and for one terrible and sort of wonderful moment, I'm convinced that Bella is going to punch the woman who abandoned her over and over.

But Bella surprises me by taking a giant calming breath. She shakes her arms out at her sides, relaxing her muscles. With a final sigh she looks away from Renee, turning her eyes on me. I search her face, trying to figure out what she needs from me.

Bella shakes her head at me slowly, grimacing slightly. Still not looking back to her mother, Bella pushes the door open and steps back to let Renee into our home.

"Aw, shit," says my wife succinctly when Renee walks in to the chaos of our home.

I can't help but grin at my wife because she once again does the unexpected while still being so totally and completely Bella. God, I love this woman.

As Renee silently takes in our half packed, half trashed living room, I grab Bella's hand. She gives me a squeeze as I grab her a nearby shirt of mine, haphazardly draped over a chair. She stares at it in confusion for a moment before looking down at her almost naked body. She gives a little start before slipping it on. It's as if she forgot she was basically naked. Even though she appears without modesty, a faint blush colors her cheeks.

Bella grabs my hand again and we face the storm together. A united front.

"So this is where you live?" Renee murmurs, looking over her shoulder at us. "Cozy."

Bella offers no explanation nor does she get defensive over Renee's obvious judgment. "Do you want… tea or something?"

Bella looks at me and I nod, answering her silent question.

_Yes, love. That is what normal people offer normal company. Good job._

"Do you have anything stronger?" Renee asks.

"It's ten in the fucking morning," Bella replies. "Coffee is as strong as it gets."

"Coffee then," Renee agrees with a sigh.

Ten minutes later, the three of us are seated around our hastily cleared kitchen table.

"So…" Renee says, obviously feeling as awkward as my wife and me. "You are moving?"

Bella squints at her mother, and I can tell what she wants to say. She wants to roll her eyes a droll a sardonic "obviously."

"Yeah," she says instead. "Edward got a job in Boston."

"You're following your boyfriend across the country?" Renee asks with disapproval.

"Try again," I suggest in a low voice. I'm pleased with how dangerous I sound.

"Husband," Bella corrects, ignoring my theatrics. "I'm forcing my husband to move across the country."

"You're married?" Renee croaks.

"Nine months," Bella says, grinning at me. I rest my hand on her thigh, pleased that she is not so signally focused on her mother that she can't experience a little joy. "I'm Bella Cullen now."

"My invite must have gotten lost in the mail," Renee says with a chuckle. Her attempt at a joke is not appreciated. Bella and I are not amused.

"It was family only," Bella replies. Although her tone is detached and polite, her message is clear.

Renee is not Bella's family.

We go back to awkward silence. We all know this woman is here for a purpose, but Bella doesn't seem to be in any hurry to ask. This whole thing is really not going anything like I envisioned.

"Cullen?" Renee says suddenly, eyes narrowing at me now critically. "As in name of the new pediatrics wing at Fork's General?"

My family really does have obscene amounts of money. I sigh when I see what she's getting at.

"Wow, you really are just like me," Renee muses. "Getting married for all the wrong reasons, making my same mistakes."

The punching face is back, and it takes Bella a full minute before she reins in her anger enough to speak. I didn't believe I could have a lower opinion of the woman sitting before me but it's dropping to unprecedented depths now.

"I did repeat your mistakes," Bella finally states. "Marrying for the wrong reasons is definitely not one of them."

Bella is obviously referring to her abrupt departure and her year spent over indulging in a plethora of mind-altering substances.

"Just so you know," Renee continues as if Bella didn't speak. "I didn't get a cent from that last son of a bitch I married for his money. He has some new whore I've heard."

Renee certainly has heard a lot of things.

I'm really fucking tired of this Bella is a golddigger thing. Would it be wrong to smack Renee a bit?

Probably.

"Please tell me you are not talking about the man who has been more of a parent to me in the last six years that you've been to me in my entire life," Bella growls.

Renee jerks her head back as if she's been slapped by Bella's words, but recovers quickly.

"Oh please," Renee dismisses. "You barely spoke. It wasn't exactly a father daughter relationship."

"Naw, you're right," Bella replies sardonically. "The man just paid for my education and walked me down the aisle. No big deal."

We didn't really have an aisle at our small, private affair. It was more like Phil walked her through a field. And he wasn't alone. Billy was there too.

"What?" Renee snaps, slapping the table. I jump in my seat in my surprise. Bella smirks at me, amused by my skittishness no doubt. "Phil gave you money? Un fucking believable. How do you do it? How do you get my ex-husbands to fork over everything they have?"

"My natural charisma, probably," replies Bella, nodding solemnly. I turn to look at my wife in awe. It's amazing that she's able to deal with the sudden appearance of her mom with such grace and humor.

I mean, she is being sarcastic and totally herself, nothing like the zombie she once was when Renee's name was even mentioned.

My wife is truly remarkable.

Renee scowls at Bella before taking a big, deep breath.

"I was in Forks," Renee murmurs. "I heard about Charlie. Terrible, for him to have died so young and so suddenly."

Bella looks down, nodding. For the first time I see her vulnerability. I hold her hand more firmly under the table.

"I know you were close with him," Renee continues. "In the last few years."

"Renee, let's not do this, okay?" Bella quietly requests.

"Do what?"

"Talk about my dad. Just… cut the shit. Why are you here?" Bella demands, losing patience now.

"I've missed you," Renee says with a wee bit too much emotion choking her words. I glance at a skeptical looking Bella and am glad that I'm not the only one who does not believe Renee to be genuine. "It's been far too long this time."

"Well, whose fault is that?" Bella asks. "I've been right here."

"Not the whole time," Renee replies. "I heard that you lived in Forks for a whole year."

"Yes. And?" I ask, thoroughly annoyed with this horrid woman.

"And nothing," Renee says. "We're just chatting, Edward. There is no reason to get so snappish."

"Renee," Bella continues, her voice low and scary now. "Why are you here? And don't give me that I missed you, you are my daughter crap because if that were true you would have called me or wrote me or something in the last five years!"

Bella and Renee stare each other down for a few minutes after Bella's little out burst. All the tension in my kitchen is making me excessively uncomfortable, and I shuffle nervously in my seat.

Renee is the first one to fold, and she looks out a nearby window with a heavy sigh. Her shoulders drop and she looks so much older than her forty something years.

"I need money," Renee finally confesses, swallowing what little is left of her pride.

"Ah," Bella says smugly. "There it is. I fucking knew it was something like that. You really never change, do you Renee?"

"It's not just the money!" Renee insists. "I really did miss you. I just was so ashamed of not getting in touch with you sooner. I was scared you wouldn't even speak to me."

Tears glisten in Renee's red eyes, and I think she might finally be telling the truth. What a fucked up woman.

"Sure, whatever you say, Renee," Bella says, suddenly sounding incredibly wary.

"I mean it!" Renee shrieks. "Lately I've been feeling so… lost. And then I found myself in Forks and I heard about your visits and Charlie. I know he had money, Bella. He was always such a fucking spend thrift. Would never even send me money for you. He said he didn't trust me to buy you clothes he would just sent clothes! It was very insulting."

"Okay?" Bella says, a little alarmed that Renee has gone from sad and emotional to fucking pissed so quickly. The woman is seriously unbalanced, and I have my suspicions regarding why Renee needs money.

"I did my time with your dad in that boring little town. I deserve that money."

Bella's mouth pops open in shock. She turns really red and her face contorts in rage. My wife looks like she is about to completely lose it, but then breaths deep and forces herself to calm.

"You don't deserve anything from me. Or my dad," Bella murmurs, getting up slowly. "Now if that's all, I think it's time for you to leave. Edward and I have packing to do."

"Wait!" Renee says, actually flinging herself at Bella's feet and sobbing. Bella and I share looks of horror while looking down at this sad little woman with varying levels of disgust. "Please! Isabella, baby, I just need a couple thousand to tide me over. I need to get to New York, friend of mine says he can get me a job. Baby, please! I have no where else to go."

"Holy Krishna," Bella replies, cringing away from the woman who birthed her. "Get up, woman! You're freaking me the fuck out."

Still sniffling and wiping at her damp cheeks, Renee crawls back in to her seat. Bella sits down across from her.

"Renee," Bella says, talking softly. "I always knew that my upbringing wasn't normal. You dragged me around the country, exposed me to all sorts of stuff I shouldn't have been exposed to as a little kid. But I didn't know better or I would have been a very unhappy child."

This is getting deep quick, and I put my hand on her thigh. She quickly covers it with one of her own hand.

"You were my best friend, my mother. I loved you and you loved me back. Or at least you claimed too. Now I see that you don't really know how to love anyone but yourself. And that's okay because I'm not like you."

Renee's eyes are wide and she listens to her daughter with rapt attention.

"Then we moved to Boulder and I felt like my life was really starting. Suddenly I had friends, kids my own age to interact with, people I cared about beyond just you and the fucked up people you hung out with. Life in Boulder was so much better than it was before, but still it wasn't enough for you. You tried to leave and I refused. I think that's when you started resenting me so much. For the first time I was asking you to make a sacrifice for me, like a real mother should. But you couldn't even give me two goddamn years. I just needed two years until I was eighteen and graduated. But instead you left me with no explanation, two hundred bucks, and a whole lot of mommy issues."

Renee is openly crying now, clenching her heart as if Bella's every word wounds her a little more deeply. But my love presses on and of this I'm thankful. Bella needs this. It seems to be the last step in her healing process.

"It fucked me up, not gonna lie. It really fucked me up," Bella says, wincing as she remembers. "You made me feel unlovable. You did that. I thought it was my fault you left. I thought it was my fault you couldn't stick around, that you couldn't really be a mom. I thought it was me, but its not. I was you."

Renee lets out a wail and Bella looks like she's on the verge of tears herself, but she keeps going.

"So I shut down, tried to protect myself from anyone hurting me like you did, and did a lot of fucked up shit as I tried to forget that not even my own mother wanted me around—"

"Bella, baby, no it was—"

"Just let me finish," Bella says. "I am responsible for my own actions. I made a lot of mistakes and did a lot of things I'm not proud of. Edward was the first one to give me a little glimpse of the life I could have. He showed me that there was alternative to the person I thought I was and the life I was living. But I fucked that up too."

"Only for a little while," I interject.

Bella smiles at me shyly before continuing. "And all that was my own doing. When I first stated this getting better thing, I blamed you entirely. It was easier than blaming myself. But the bottom line is I did those things. Your behavior influenced mine, but I made those decisions. Those regrets and mistakes are my own. But you leaving me, abandoning me, that's not my fault. There is nothing I did to drive you away nor was there anything I could have done to make you stay."

Again, I am so proud how far she's come. I am so amazed that she can just sit here and calmly articulate everything she feels and thinks to a woman who caused her so much pain. My wife is so strong, stronger than me. If I braved what Bella has, I don't think I could have come this far. She doesn't seem angry anymore, and that fact alone is a bit of a miracle.

"One day, Renee," Bella continues. "You're going to be forced to take a good, hard look at your life. Maybe you'll do it willingly like I did, or maybe some great reckoning when you finally kick the bucket, but at some point you are going to have to take responsibility for abandoning me. You hurt me. You'll have to come to terms with that. Just like I've come to terms with hurting people I care about."

"I don't know what to say," Renee whispers, sounding terribly lost.

"You don't need to say anything," Bella replies. "I don't need anything from you. It took me a long time to get here, but I really don't need anything from you. I'm not even angry at you anymore."

"I really do love you, Bella," Renee says, continuing to whimper. "I just couldn't stay."

"Okay. That's nice, though it really isn't necessary. You know how I feel about the whole thing now, and I'm glad I got this chance to say what I did," Bella replies.

"So you'll give me the money?" Renee asks, thoroughly enraging me. I want to scream at her, berate her for being such a terrible person, but Bella doesn't seem particularly bothered so I stay silent. Her wellbeing is what matters to me.

"Fuck no," Bella replies with a little chuckle. "I no longer fund drug binges. Sorry."

"Drugs? Where did you get such an idea? I would never… I don't do drugs!" Renee squeaks, freaking out all over again.

"Renee, come on," Bella says, sounding frustrated. "You are totally strung the fuck out. That's why you're so desperate for money."

"Baby—"

"Renee, just don't" Bella interrupts, putting up her hand. Now she sounds tired. "It's not gonna work. I can get you in to a rehab clinic. If you get cleaned up I can talk to a few people in Boulder about helping you get a job, but that's all you're gonna get from me."

Bella's generosity stuns me.

"Rehab?" Renee asks weakly. "Really?"

"Yup. Take it our leave it," replies my wife.

"Can I think about it?"

"Sure," Bella replies with a shrug before getting up to rummage through some boxes. She returns a moment later with a pen and a sticky note. "We leave at the end of the week, so let me know by then. Edward has all sorts of doctor contacts and we'll help you out. Here is my cell and my email."

Renee takes the little piece of paper, nodding weakly.

I linger back as Bella walks Renee to the door, trying to give them some privacy. Or at least the allusion of privacy because I stay close enough to hear every word uttered.

"Bye, Renee," Bella says as Renee steps out of our apartment. Thank God. "Let me know by the end of the week. We won't really be able to help you once we move."

"Right, of course," Renee murmurs in reply.

"Good luck," Bella says, attempting to close the door.

"Wait, Bella!" Renee puts a hand out, keeping Bella from closing the door. "It really was good to see you, kid. I love you. No matter what."

"Thanks, Renee," Bella replies.

Renee abruptly throws her arms around my wife. Bella is obviously a little stunned, but eventually she hugs Renee back for a second before stepping away.

"You've really made quite the life for yourself. I'm happy for you, proud of you."

"Thanks. I'm glad to hear you say that. Really, call me by the end of the week. I hope to hear from you."

Renee nods and the door closes and both my wife and myself let out matching sighs of relief.

Bella turns slowly, looking at me with an unfathomable expression. "So," she says. "Let's get to that packing."

"Bella!" I sputter, still shocked by everything that's just happened.

"Damn, you're gonna want to do your whole talk it out, debrief thing, huh?" she asks with a rueful shake of the head.

"And you are going to want to do your not talk about it, bury it all deep, ignoring thing, aren't you?" I reply, crossing my arms over my chest and scowling.

"Yeah, pretty much," she replies, grinning at me now.

"You know I'm going to win this one, don't you? Let's not even bother fighting."

"Oh, Edward," she says, sighing and approaching me now. "You're good at being married."

"I'm good at being married to _you_," I correct as she wraps her arms around my waist and smiles seductively up at me. "That's why I'm not going to let you sex your way out of this one."

She giggles at my words, gives me a quick kiss, and moves to sit on the couch.

"I'm really okay," Bella says, talking quietly.

I stare at her for a while, trying to figure out if I believe her or not.

"Really, Edward," she snaps. "Don't look at me like I'm about to break. I'm okay."

"Okay," I say, moving to sit next to her. This takes a moment because I have to move a stack of picture frames and artwork.

"I knew somehow that I would see her again. That she would pop up eventually. I mentally prepared myself for all this."

"You were so brave," I say in awe.

"Yeah, I know. I'm a total badass," she agrees. "I mean… seeing her brought up all these emotions, but I could handle it. I was in control. Still myself."

"She pissed me off, quiet frankly."

"I know," she says, taking my hand. "She pissed me off too. I tried not to get mad, I tried not to feel anything, but I think I did okay. Did I do okay?"

"You were amazing," I agree, kissing her temple.

"I wanted to take the high road, be the better person," Bella murmurs. "She's obviously even more unstable and drugged up than the last time I saw her. I tried to have a little grace."

"Is that why you offered to help her?" I ask.

"Yeah. I mean, the woman needs a lot of help and I hope she accepts it, but she isn't going to," Bella says sadly. "It will probably be another six years before I see her again, and that's fine. I said what I needed to say. I'm finally done with her."

Bella is grinning now and she lets out a little giggle.

"What has you so happy all of a sudden?" I ask. Her smile is infectious and I return it.

"It really is a whole new world," Bella says. "That's all because of you. You get that, don't you sweetheart?"

"I think you had quite a bit to do with it too, love," I reply.

"It was a team effort," she decides.

"Go team!" I cheer.

We high five and then laugh.

"We should pack," Bella murmurs out as she crawls into my lap.

"Later," I reply, bringing my lips to hers.

Somehow, we manage to get out life packed away by the end of the week. Renee never calls. And this is fine with me because it's fine with Bella.

BPOV

May 17, 2013

"SURPRISE!"

I roll my eyes as Edward jumps in shock next to me as pretty much everyone we know and like in Boulder pops out of various hiding spots in the house on Goss. On the way here, I warned Edward that there was no way we going to be attending a simple family fare-thee-well dinner. Despite said warning, my husband is still all jumpy and adorably freaked out.

"I fucking knew it," I mutter as Alice launches herself into my arms. "Simple goodbye dinner my ass."

Alice just chuckles and grins like a loon before moving to hug her little twin. I receive about eight squillion hugs after that. After being bombarded by the entire Cullen clan, I snag little Willy – Rose and Em's five month old – from Esme before greeting all our friends.

Holy fuck nut, there sure are a lot of them. When did we get so many of friends?

It hits me for real that I'm really going to miss these people who have all in their own little way shaped my own story. I love them. I'm lucky I still have them. And though logically I knew starting over in Boston would mean leaving a lot of great people behind, emotionally I didn't get it until this moment when I see them all in one enclosed space.

Jake is there with Leah. He is dragging his feet about proposing. I'm gonna have to kiss his ass if he hasn't shaped up by the time Edward and I come back for Christmas or Thanksgiving or whatever.

Billy is in the corner making Phil laugh loudly at some terribly crude joke, no doubt. All the father figures in my life have all been so fucking different and wonderful at the same time. Seeing them together makes me wish Charlie was here too.

An already-prego-again Rosalie sticks a glass of wine in my hand while Alice snaps a picture of Edward tickling Willy in my arms.

"I'm living vicariously through you," Rose explains. "Drink up, bitch."

"Cheers, hoe bag," I reply, lifting my glass at her before taking a big sip.

"Okay, let's not go down that road," Edward says, interrupting Rosalie's reply while Esme steals her second grandson away from me, allowing various people to basically mob me. Edward and I get separated by the masses so I take a deep breath and socialize.

I make the party rounds, greeting old friends from college and my youth. All the boys I used to hang out with so often are here, even if I don't see them very often its just like old times without being too much like old times when I do.

People from good old Hallett Hall are crowded into the kitchen, playing some sort of drinking game I haven't seen in years. They are reliving our college days. I'm highly amused to see Carlisle actively participating in the merriment. He chugs a beer and then puts his arms up in triumph as everyone cheers.

I wonder how long that will last before Esme intervenes.

The old school games must go with Alice's Walk Down Memory Lane theme. She's hung pictures of us from various points in our relationship up all over the place. I laugh because Edward used to be so scrawny. I don't really look very different, but the face I see in the mirror now is definitely much healthier and much happier.

Tia is here along with a bunch of Edward's other friends from med school. They are all going their separate ways now. Tia is actually doing her internship in Seattle to be closer to a certain giant ex-Marine, thrift storeowner. Edward and Tia are both a little freaked out by going on with their medical careers without each other, and this doesn't even bother me.

I continue to greet and chat with randoms – people from work, people I've known forever, family, friends, parent figures, even Pat the loopy bookkeeper. And I usually find such socializing, pretty fucking exhausting, I find I don't mind this.

It's a good final memory to have of Boulder. Picking up your whole life and starting over somewhere so foreign is fucking freaky. The memory of all these people who care about me will be a good one to have when Edward's working and I haven't made any friends yet.

But I recently face down my mother. It makes me feel like I can do anything.

Not that I'm not fucking excited about the move, our new apartment, living in the heart of a city.

Eventually, I find my way back to Edward. Rose shows up balancing baby Willy and little Henry in her arms. Apparently it's time for bed, and I cry a lot when I have to say goodbye to the wee ones.

Edward kisses my temple and wipes at my tears. I smile ruefully, but crying doesn't seem quite as humiliating as it once did.

The party continues to rage around us, but I stay close to Edward. We watch all the people we love have a really great time with each other. Most of them appear to being using our move as an excuse to drink way too much. Edward murmurs funny things he sees, memories, and things he can't wait for in Boston in my ear.

Eventually, things die down. People filter out. Saying goodbye to some isn't really that big of a deal, saying goodbye to others makes me cry. Angela and I hug it out for a solid five minutes while out men-folk do the same. Jake lifts me off my feet, telling me not to do anything he wouldn't do. Phil kisses my cheek and I promise to email him regularly. Billy tells me to get in to just the right amount of trouble and says he's proud of me.

I cry a whole bunch more and let Edward comfort me. He is better at saying goodbye than I am which makes no fucking sense. But I guess he has probably been mentally preparing for this moment for months where I chose to let all these emotions sneak up on me.

Edward just scoffs at me when I tell him I feel ridiculous.

It's pretty late when the only ones left at the house on Goss are family. My family. The Cullen family who I'm one of as Bella Cullen. I snuggle up next to Edward on the love seat while all eight of us sit. Jasper starts telling college stories, starting with the detailed account of how Edward and I first met. I hide my blush in Edward's chest as Esme shakes her head. I suppose we are all old enough now that the rents finding out these things isn't too bad. But then Edward reminds Jazz what he was doing with Alice that night and Carlisle plugs his ears. The stories told are a little more PG after that.

Various people, myself included, fall asleep as conversation continues. Edward sits up beside me, announcing that its time to go. But I don't really want it to be time yet. I argue with him for a few minutes before falling a sleep again and finally agreeing that it is time to go.

The family goodbyes are the worst because I'll miss them the most, but they are also kinda the best because we are all connected. Despite geography, these people will always be connect to me through marriage or whatever, but also through love.

"How are you, love?" Edward murmurs in my ear as he holds me close in the elevator on the way up to our now empty apartment. This will be out last night in the home we've shared for the last couple years.

"I'm fine," I reply, snuggling into his side.

"Bella…" The man knows me far too well.

"Okay, I'm not totally fine," I admit with a huff, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the hall when the doors slide open. "I'm this weird combination of heartbroken and excited."

"Heartbroken?" Edward says with a gasp. He stops mid way through turning the key in the lock. "I don't want you to be heartbroken! This move is a terrible idea. We shouldn't go. It's probably too late to—"

"Baby," I interrupt as he freaks out. "Calm your pants. I want to go to Boston."

"But you're heartbroken!"

"Aren't you sad to say goodbye to your family? You've never lived without your siblings close by. You have to be a little bit sad."

"There is a difference between sad and heartbroken," Edward insists.

"Yeah…" I agree. "But it's different, for you and me."

"How so?"

"Well, I never really let myself have family before. It's only in the last couple of years I let myself actually love these people. I guess the way I feel about leaving all them reminds me of that. Plus, I'm a writer," I finish, smiling at him so he knows I really am okay. "We tend to have a flair for dramatic word choice."

He rolls his eyes at this before wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I love you," Edward says, dropping a kiss on my forehead.

"Back at yah, bub," I reply, swatting at his hand to encourage him to unlock the apartment. "I really am excited for Boston, you know. We are long over due for a good adventure."

Edward pushes through our apartment door, flicking on the light and pulling me through the threshold behind him.

Our whole lives are packed away, either on route to our new place across the fucking country or in the Volvo, waiting to make the trip in the morning.

Waldo lifts his head from his position atop the fluffy pile of blankets in the corner of what used to be our living room. He huffs at us, probably irritated that all his favorite hiding spots are gone. Spending the night in our empty apartment is rather spooky. At least my cat understands that, unlike Edward who concocted this whole plan so we wouldn't have to stay with his insane siblings.

"It looks bigger without all our shit in it," I whisper to Edward as he shuts and locks the door behind us. He mimics my position in the entryway, crossing his arms over his chest and surveying the empty space. "I can't believe I painted that wall so red. Has it always been that fucking red?"

"Why are you whispering?" Edward replies, failing to give me an answer on the whole wall color thing.

"Dunno," I whisper back. "Doesn't it feel like we shouldn't be making any loud noises?"

Edward smiles, chuckles softly, and kisses my temple.

I brush my teeth at the kitchen sink so I can keep an eye on Edward while he sets up our bed and scratches Waldo's chin. This whole empty apartment thing is freaking me out, and I don't want to be on my own with the ghosts and the weird colored walls.

I mean, it is so fucking red.

When I'm done Edward has made us a nice little place to sleep and is sitting up against a wall in just his boxers with Waldo purring away in his lap.

I hope Waldo likes Boston. I hope I like Boston. I hope Edward likes Boston.

I pause for a moment and just smile at my little family. I did pretty fucking good for myself.

We're going to need to have last-time-in-this-apartment-sex now.

"Hi, hubs," I whisper, plopping down next to him and giving Waldo a good cuddle.

"Hi, wifey," he replies, talking at a normal volume.

"Shush!" I scold. "They'll hear you."

"Who?" he asks, murmuring in my ear. I giggle as he nibbles on my earlobe.

"The too red walls," I reply in my best horror story telling voice.

"You are so weird."

"You are so cute."

I kiss him for a while. There is no need to rush. He is mine forever.

"I wonder how many times we've had sex in this apartment," I whisper, throwing a leg over his lap and dislodging Waldo in the process. The kit kat hisses at me and scampers off. "Squillions of times, I bet."

Edward's big ol' hands cup my ass, pulling me forward on his lap so I'm sitting right on his big ol' dick. I grab his hair and lick his jaw. He has such a lovely jaw.

"So weird," Edward repeats. "And squillion is not a real number." I'm glad he's playing along with me now and whispering.

"I love you," I tell him before kissing him sweetly, tenderly. Edward runs his tongue along my bottom lip, and I open my mouth to him gladly as I tangle my fingers in his hair.

He has such lovely hair.

Edward mumbles his agreement against my mouth while one of his large, lovely hands slips under my black lace panties and the other splays across my belly. I roll my hips in a slow, circular motion, driving us both pretty damn crazy what with the friction and the under garments in the way and what not.

I remember that the hubs isn't wearing a shirt, so my hands check him out while my mouth detours to his neck. I check out all those places I know he likes with my fingertips and tongue. I even flick my thumbs over his nipples, eliciting a giggle from him, just as I knew I would.

It's quiet, as should be in this empty apartment. It's almost like we were never here at all. Maybe it's a good thing I paint that wall so red and the ones in our bedroom so yellow. Like we are leaving something of ourselves behind.

Edward smiles crookedly as he tugs on the hem of the t-shirt I pulled on not long ago and I put my arms straight in the air to help him out. There is quite a bit of boob dallying, and I moan in his ear while I tighten my grip on his hair. Edward's hips lift in a steady, slow rhythm as I continue to move with him, using my knees on either side of his legs.

We continue to move and moan and touch until I can't fucking stand it. Edward always knows just what I need, and starts to wiggle out of his underwear. This does great things for the contact between the wonder cock and my clit, causing me to moan too fucking loudly for this empty apartment.

"Shush," Edward whispers against my lips, teasing me. He wraps am arm around my waist, lifting me off him but pushing our naked chests together for one hot minute as he frees himself. He touches me, smirking when he feels just how wet I am before he moves my teeny, tiny panties out of the way. He goes up, I go down, and just like that we are joined, mind, body, and soul.

"Bella…"

"Oh…"

With a palm on his peck and the other tangled in the hair at the back of his head, I move, move, move my hips. Edward touches my chest and my back and my face. He doesn't even have to ask me to keep my eyes open. I watch every little play of emotion of his face and see the love in his eyes.

Fuck, he just feels so good and I just love him so much.

Edward's hips are lifting off the floor again and our slow pace is a thing of the past as we get there together. We do everything together.

This new beginning is together.

And then we come together.

I collapse against his shoulder and he collapses against the wall, taking me with him and whacking my forehead against the too red wall.

"Oof."

"Sorry, love."

"Worth it," I say, pushing my nose into his neck and tightening all four of my limbs around him.

"What if I can handle being a real doctor?" Edward whispers in a rush as we hold each other, and for a minute I'm not sure I hear him right the first time. I sit completely still for a moment before placing both my hands on the wall on either side of his head and pushing away so I can get a good look at his face.

He slips out of me and I'm not quite ready to end the blissed-out, cuddly bit, but Edward has obviously been keeping this fear to himself for a while.

The poor hubs looks all nervous and a little bit embarrassed too.

"Sweetheart," I saw with a shocked little laugh. "Where is this coming from? You rock the doctor stuff, got basically perfect grades in med school. Your are going to be the best surgical intern in the history of surgical interns."

"There is a big different between mastering test taking skills and being the best surgical intern in the history of surgical interns," he replies, scoffing at me.

"Mastering test taking skills!" I shout, kinda pissed at him for discounting his own smartness and drive and what not. "Dude, come on."

"Okay, I know it's not just that. I do work hard, but being there and doing it is a totally different situation. What if I can't deal with the pressure? People could die!" He is squeaking and wide eyed and so fucking adorable I can't help but drop a quick kiss on his nose.

"Baby, you're gonna be great. It'll probably be tough and overwhelming and scary as shit, but you'll manage. You'll figure it out and be learning a ton and doing what you always wanted to do. Doctoring is in your blood, babe. Plus, I'll me there the whole time supporting you good meals and blowies and stuff."

Edward laughs and relaxes slightly.

"You're going to be a life saving machine," I whisper, kissing both his eyelids when he closes his eyes.

"You are good at being married," Edward tells me.

"I'm good at being married to you," I correct, grinning at him.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"Back at yah, dude," I reply.

I yawn loudly, keenly aware that we have to get up at the ass crack of dawn. I'll probably have to drag Edward's ass to the car and take the first driving shift. That's going to be his biggest challenge on his road to doctordom, getting up early. Hubs is useless until about noon.

We snuggle down and fall asleep for the last time in our apartment. I cuddle close to Edward and think about the last couple of years here. My first botched attempt to talk to him after we slept together my first night back, spending the night with him when we were just friends, when he finally asked me to move in with him, and when the place officially became ours.

Good times.

Edward pushes his thumb in to that soft place right by my hipbone and I think about before that, my time away and college, everything we went through, the good and bad.

I wouldn't change anything because all that got me right here with Edward.

"You ready for this, love?" he asks, voice low and disconnected with sleep. "It's just you and me."

"Yeah," I reply, breathing him in deep. "It's a whole new world."

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**Dang, I feel like my child just grew up and moved out. This fic is totally my baby. Leave some love. Or hate. Or whatever. Please?**


	34. Epilogue the First

**There will be another. Do not fret. Who knows after that. I'm having some trouble letting go of this baby.**

**I wish I was better at replying to reviews. Just know I read them all and am blown away by your insightful response. Amazing. I love you.**

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June 20, 2020

"You're pretty," I say, head propped up on one elbow so I can look down at his pretty, petty face. If anything, he just gets better lookin' as we get old. It's no fucking fair. His jaw is even more chiseled than ever and I have stretch marks.

Jerk.

"You're beautiful," he replies, flashing that crooked smile. His eyes remained closed behind his Ray Bans.

"I'm old," I correct.

"Your old?" Now I have his attention and he sits up, scowling at me in indignation. "I'm the one that just turned thirty five. I'm practically dead."

At this I snort. Now he is just being a drama queen. "Hopefully you got a few years left in you, dude. I'll kill you if you leave me to deal with the little monsters alone."

"You are more than capable, wife of mine," Edward says, lying down next to me. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Yeah, still couldn't do it without you," I insist.

"Jeeze, Bella," he says, continuing to smile. "Don't get all mushy on me."

He is teasing me so I punch him in the shoulder. I get tickled in retaliation and then somehow end up sprawled on top of him.

"Beautiful," he repeats, touching my face with his fingertips.

"Charmer," I scoff, laying my head on his shoulder and snuggling in.

I close my eyes, listening to the creek babbling near by and enjoying the feel of the sun on my face and Edward underneath me.

"Are you going to miss this?" Edward asks quietly.

"Nope." My reply is instant. "I'm ready to go home. What about you?"

"I am so tired of the color green."

I laugh and sit up. "We should probably go. Got group dinner tonight. Big day tomorrow and what not. I dread taking the monsters on a plane."

"The poor unsuspecting people who have the misfortune to be on our flight," Edward jokes as he starts to gather our shit.

"Let's abolish bedtime for the night. Then, if we're real lucky, they'll be out for the count on the plane tomorrow," I say, standing and surveying the meadow. Our meadow. In the last five years, we didn't get out of the city much, but when do we always come to the meadow.

Edward used to come here when he was an awkward teen. I came here to heal. Now we bring the monsters to enjoy the rare and glorious sun.

"It's really only the one that we have to worry about," Edward says, folding our picnic blanket.

With hands on my hips, I look at the wild flowers, the creek, and the dense foliage beyond. Everything looks as it always does. Birds chirp, bees buzz. My heart stops when I realize the monsters are conspicuously absent.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, turning in a circle. Rustling in a nearby tree and a flash of color catch my eye and has me stomping across the meadow. "Masen Anthony! What did I tell you about climbing trees on your own? You are not a flipping monkey child!"

I hear Edward chuckle as he continues to pack up remains of our picnic lunch, totally unfazed. Almost five years of parenthood have mellowed him.

"Jeeze, Mom," says my kid. He already has far too much attitude. Masen is essentially me both in looks and personality, except with Edward's eyes. I should have known any child of mine would be a little hellion. "Calm your pants."

He pops out from behind a bush before army crawling his way over to me. Tyler recently let him watch some war epic and it's been a struggle to get him to walk like a biped since.

I sigh heavily as he hits a particularly muddy patch and see another flash of color in the same tree.

"You got your sister to climb the tree!" I shout, stalking over to stare up at Charlie who is clinging to a branch. Luckily she isn't too far up.

"You only say _I_ can't climbed," Masen tells me. And he's right. That's a rookie mistake I made, right there.

"Hi, Ma," squeaks Charlie, obviously terrified but unwilling to let her twin in on this fact.

"Hello, darling. Whacha doin' up there?"

"I can't climbed down," she explains. "It's tall up here."

"How did you even get up there?" I ask, studying the tree. The shortest branch is about five feet up. Neither of my almost-five-year-olds could have reached that sucker.

"I power boosted her!" Masen screams, punching the air before dropping back to his belly. Poor kid really got an extra load of the Cullen lunatic gene.

"Edward!" I shout over my shoulder. "Little help, Hubs!"

I move closer to the tree. "Charlie-Girl?" I say, trying to reassure her. "We're gonna get you down. Okay?"

"How?" she demands. Charlie wants to know how everything works. She is the miniature of her father, both in looks and personality.

"I hate to break it to you, kid," I confess, knowing she isn't going to like my plan, "but you're gonna have to jump."

"No."

"Charlie, do you want to spend the rest of your life in that tree? I don't think they offer med school up there."

She wants to grow up to "fix people" like her daddy. The child is such a daddy's girl and it's awesome.

"I'll squish you," Charlie insists, wrapping her limbs more secularly around the branch. "Climbed up, Ma."

"Naw, kid," I say, relieved when Edward joins me, surveying the situation. "I'm too fat."

This makes Charlie giggle. "Are not, Mommy."

That's why I had kids, huge boost to the ego.

"Charlie, I'll catch you," Edward says, lifting his arms up toward our daughter.

She looks at him skeptically and I grin because that look is all me.

"Come on, kid," I say. "Daddy's a good catch. Has he ever lied to you before?"

"No," she says, smiling now.

"Trust me," he says.

"Okay."

"On the count of three."

Masen joins the count down with gusto. Charlie screams a little before letting go of the tree. She's only in the air for a bout a quarter of a second before she's safe in Edward's arms but Masen takes the moment to scream "fly, Charlie, fly!"

"Cool," says Charlie, looking up at the branch. Edward kisses her cheek, I laugh, and Masen is belly-down in the dirt. "Daddy, I got my sneaks all dirty."

Edward frowns and tries to clean the smudge on her otherwise pristine shoe. I roll my eyes at the pair of neat freaks.

"Masen," I say as we get back to the path that leads to the Cullen home. "I will drag you along by your earlobe if you don't stay on two feet for the walk back. We have to be at Mike and Jessica's in an hour and it'll take us twice that long if you go all army dude on us. You aren't fast."

"I'm fast!" he shouts, scowling at me. "I'm fast like a trout!"

And on that bizarre note we set off through the woods of Forks.

"Hiya, Bella."

"Hiya, Robs." I ruffle my favorite Newton's shaggy blond head as I step through the doorway, arms laden bags. "What's up, dude?"

"Just stuff, you know. I found a frog! He's in my room. Dad helped me get a home for him with water and stuff, but I had to promise not to tell Mom. Isn't that dumb? Mom knows everything," he babbles adorably.

"That's real cool," I reply. "What's his name?"

"Walter."

Walter? Fuck, I love this kid. He is so weird.

"Why Walter?" I ask, stifling a giggle.

"Dunno. He just looks like a Walter," Robbie replies with a solemn shrug. "Where's Masen?"

"Outside watchin' Uncle Tyler beat your dad's butt at basketball."

Without another word he zips off out the front door, nearly taking out Charlie who followed me in. She huffs before coming over to clutch my hand.

"He's rude, Mommy," she tells me, scowling. Charlie is just so adorable and so much like her dad I can't resist bending down to kiss her curly, bronze head.

Hand in hand, we walk through the house to the kitchen.

"What up, yo?" I shout dramatically when we enter. Tia jumps at the shove, startled by my sudden, loud intrusion. She scowls at me over her shoulder, and I smirk at her because some things never change.

"You're late," Jessica says, popping out of nowhere and giving me a hug even as she scolds me.

"I blame my son entirely," I reply, handing over all my bags. "Also your husband, T."

"What's all this?" Jess asks, puzzled.

"Pretty much all the food left in the Cullen house. I figured you could keep what you want and bring the rest to the food bank when you go volunteer next week."

"Sweet," says Jess, nodding.

"Hi, Camille," I say, turning my attention to the dark haired seven year old, diligently cooking next to her mom. I place a kiss on her cheek. "How you doin', pretty lady?"

"Good, Bella. I'm in charge of the nan."

"Looks mighty tasty. It smells so good in this kitchen."

Tia always makes the most delicious food. Apparently it's some sort of requirement for Indian girls to learn how to cook basically at birth. She even taught me a bunch of recipes in exchange for babysitting. It's awesome.

"What can I do?"

"You can get out of my kitchen," Tia mutters. We like to pretend like we still don't get along, but its all bullshit. We got mad love for each other, Tia and me.

"It's not your kitchen," I snark back. "This is Jessica's house."

Tia is interrupted before she can reply.

"Enough," cuts in Jess. "Bella, you are the guest of honor. Just sit your butt down and stay out of the way." She forces a beer into my hand and shoves me in a chair at the kitchen table.

"Fair enough," I say with a shrug.

We chat about nothing in particular and before long Lucy and Charlie are back bearing a large Barbie puzzle.

Lucy, as blond her brother and three years younger, climbs into my lap. "Help us make Barbie, Bella?" she asks, blinking her big baby blues at me. It's hard to believe we all made such pretty babies, but there really isn't an ugo in the bunch.

Charlie loves puzzles and she meticulously finds the corners and starts with the edge pieces like Edward taught her. Lucy's strategy is more luck based and I giggle as she just shoves random ones together.

"Ah-ha!" I shout when I connect two pieces of border. The girls think this is great and commence to say ah-ha whenever they find the right piece. Camille is attracted by the noise and the three of them laugh a lot.

I wander back into the kitchen with the other moms.

"So you're all packed up?" Jess asks, nursing her own beer.

"Yup," I reply. "Fuck, I hate moving. I told Edward I'm done. This is it."

"I'm not surprised," says Tia. "I always knew you two would end up back in Colorado eventually.'

"Yeah and this job offer couldn't have come at a better time. What with the monsters starting school next year," I agree, plopping myself on the counter by the sink.

"Bella," Tia scolds as she continues to diligently prepare our Indian going away meal.

"What? Have you met my son? I love the kid but he is totally a monster. Charlie is too, thought it's less obvious. She is sneakier than her brother," I say, eyeing Charlie as she laughs with the other girls at the puzzle. Recently, I've suspected that she has been framing her brother for various mishaps but I haven't been able to prove it. It doesn't help that they have a no tattle-taling pact against me. It's that stupid twin thing.

"I'm going to miss you guys so much!" Jess wails, getting all teary eyed.

"Snap out of it, man!" I shout back, mostly to keep myself from tearing up in response. "It's not like we saw that much of you when we lived in Seattle."

We put our Seattle home on the market about a month ago when Edward decided to take the job in Boulder. It sold quicker than anticipated – under the condition that we vacate right away – so we have been living in the Cullen's Forks home. It's been great being close to the Newtons and the Crowleys, but Edward has been basically living out of a hotel during the week so I'm ready to get to Boulder.

The house we bought there is less than a mile away from the house on Goss. I can't fucking wait.

"Still more than we'll see you when you live in Colorado," Tia points out.

"You'll just have to come visit," I tell them both.

"I think we can handle that," says Jess.

"Damn right," says Tia.

The man-folk and our male spawn all burst into the kitchen demanding dinner and complaining of extreme hunger. Tia and Jess scold them and there is a lot of yelling as Masen and Robbie protest the hand washing Jessica insists upon. Edward comes to stand in front of me.

"Hey, Hubs," I say, pulling him closer with my feet on the back of his thighs. "You're all sweaty." I push my hands through his damp hair.

"Gross, Bella," Jessica shouts from across the chaotic kitchen. "You better wash your hands too!"

Mike takes this moment to rub his own sweaty head all over his wife who shrieks and runs off with Mike in full pursuit.

Mostly, I ignore their antics because Edward is all sweaty and between my legs. I slide forward on the countertop to get closer. He leans forward, resting his hands behind me on the countertop and giving me a languid kiss.

"How were the hoops?" I ask when he pulls away. The question is a preventive measure designed to keep myself from humping him. That would be entirely inappropriate. Right?

Right.

"I dominated," he whispers in my ear. The word combined with his hot breath make me shiver. He is purposefully driving me crazy.

Asshole.

"No, you didn't," I say, giggling slightly and wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

"Bella," he says with mock indignation. "You are my wife. You are supposed to blindly accept anything I tell you."

He can't even keep a straight face as he says it and I giggle a little with him.

"Tyler and Mike take the b-ball pretty seriously, if I recall," I say, still trying to distract myself from the havoc he is wrecking on my body from the close proximity. Edward, despite he rather rigorous fitness regime of weights and running, has never been the best at sports. "And balls have never really been your thing, baby."

"No, that is more your area of expertise," he says, waggling his eyebrows at me. I punch him lightly in the arm. "Actually," he says, getting slightly more serious now. "I did take a ball right to the nose."

There is so much I want to say but don't being as we are surrounded by little ears. But I do laugh at him for a moment before regaining my composure and examining his nose. Sure enough, the bridge is a little red and slightly swollen. People who have spent less time looking at Edward's face probably wouldn't even notice the slight changes. But I've devoted a lot of time to looking at him. It's my wifely privilege.

"Poor baby," I coo, lightly brushing my lips over the spot. "Gettin' smacked around by balls to the face."

"Funny," he replies dryly.

I kiss his nose once more before moving to his lips. For a quick moment I forget where we are, and I lock my ankles behind him as I continue to kiss him lazily.

I've probably spent almost as much time kissing him as I have lookin' at him but I doubt I'll ever tire of either activity.

"Ew!" I pull away at the shout, recognizing my son's voice, but I can't see him. He then pops up from the ground and smacks Edward in the butt, hard. "No kissing!"

Edward lets out a growl and quickly pulls away to yank Masen off the ground. My little monster is over Edward's shoulder and upside down a moment later, making come sort of banshee noise that is a cross between scream and a giggle. Edward tickles Masen's dirty feet and the noise becomes a straight up laugh.

"Hey, you crazy Cullens," Tyler shouts from the dinning room. "Come and get it!"

Edward turns with Masen continuing to laugh and struggle over his shoulder. I follow, bending to make eye contact with my kid.

"No hitting, Masen," I remind him, trying to be stern. He just continues to giggle and I give up my little attempt at parenting.

The meal is set up buffet style and I make a plate for myself and Charlie, leaving Masen to Edward. That kid will eat anything. I once found eighty-nine cents in his diaper. Good thing I married a doctor. I was pretty convinced Masen was going to die but Edward reassured me that what went in would come out.

We all settle at the table and Jessica stands, demanding that we don't eat until she makes her toast. Most of the kids and Tyler ignore her and dig in, but she continues anyway.

"It seems like just yesterday that four of us were seated around this very table, attending a very similar fare thee well dinner," she say, nodding towards Mike, Tyler, and me. "That night was a bittersweet affair. We were going to miss Bell a lot, but we were happy that she was going after what she wanted. Well, she got it and for that we are all thankful. Edward, you and Bella made a beautiful family and we're really going to miss you. So good luck and safe travels."

All the adults lift their glasses, repeating the sentiment. Masen screams "live long and prosper," before dumping his entire glass of milk in Lucy's lap.

I have high hopes that the two of them will get married someday.

"I didn't see nothin'," Charlie insists, defending her brother. As usual.

When that clutterfuck is taken care of and Masen is properly chastised, everyone has a real good time. The adults plan fabulous future reunions and drink too much. The kids chatter happily and play a game they invented called manners. From what I gather, some of them exhibit good manner while the others embody bad.

I don't get the appeal.

Jessica ends the game when Charlie throws a glob of something at Robbie who retaliates by salting my daughter's hair and threatening to eat her. Lucy pokes Masen in the eyes, yelling "ah-ha" at the top of her lungs. Camille is the only child who chose to show good manners.

"Mom, please close your mouth hole!" Masen says, covering his ears as I give Charlie a nice lecture about where food is supposed to go. "She had to have bad manners for the win!"

"Don't say mouth hole," I tell him.

"Okay, bum-oley."

Monsters. I birthed monsters.

Camille is the only kid that gets out of dish duty with the dads.

It's way too late when we finally leave the Newton's. The goodbye is tough and I get even more teary than I expected. Edward looks at me with concern as I burst into tears in the car. I alarm myself with the violence of my sobs, and the twins touch my hair and grab at my hands from the back seat, telling me not to cry.

This is why I had children. They can be really sweet when they try.

Edward wrestles with the monster's upstairs while I go through our bags and walk through the house, making sure we have everything. We sent our furniture to Boulder when we moved out of our house in Seattle, so really we just have luggage to deal with. It's not the end of the world if we leave something, but I triple check my Masen-entertaining supplies. Charlie can focus on one thing for a long time, and should be okay with just coloring on the flight but Masen has the attention span of a goldfish. My carry on is full of activities for the monster.

I walk through Edward's childhood home once more, making sure everything is where it should be. A cleaning service will be here in a couple days, but it was real cool of Carlisle and Esme to loan us their house. I want to leave it as we found it.

Unfortunately, this means I had to spend most of yesterday painting a bathroom wall where a sharpie and toothpaste mural magically appeared. Both children claim no knowledge and even provide each other with alibis.

Monsters.

I'm tucking our boarding passes into my purse when Edward enters, closing the bedroom door behind him. We've been camped out in Edward's childhood room because sleeping in his parent's bed weirds him out.

"Are the monster's in hibernating?" I ask.

He doesn't respond. He just picks me up and tosses me on the bed. I giggle as I bounce a little before he falls on top of me. He just lies there for a moment, a dead weigh, as I wiggle around and laugh under him.

"You're crushing me!" I say with a laugh, tugging on his hair. He lies still for another moment before attacking me with his hands and mouth. His tongue plunges into my mouth and his hands yank at my shirt.

Edward and I have this great tradition of fucking all night as a goodbye to the various places we live. Though we've been in Washington for the last five years, we moved a fuck ton for a couple years between Edward's internship in Boston and his residency is Seattle. Those were a cool couple of years. Edward did some volunteer doctor stuff while I wrote a ton. We spend a couple months in Zambia, Cameroon, and then Ghana. We took a little trip to the rift before living in Spain for a while. But then I got knocked up and it was time to go back to the states.

Goodbye sex is always real good.

Edward's hand sneaks into my panties after removing my shirt and I roll us over roughly because I like to keep the hubs on his toes.

"Hey, no locks, bums!" shouts Masen, banging on the door. I let out a frustrated groan and tumble off Edward, lying next to him on my back.

"Fuck, did they trick you?" I ask him.

"Guess so," Edward muses, sighing heavily. The monsters do this thing where they pretend to be asleep so they can bust in on us a couple minutes later. Masen calls it storming the castle and they think it's real funny. It always puts off bedtime for at least half an hour and we never catch them plotting. It's that stupid twin thing they have going on.

"Daddy!" yells Charlie as Masen continues to abuse the door. "Prince Waldo wants in!"

"God, they have Waldo," I say in horror. "Edward, go save him."

Our cat is way too old to put up with all the shit he does. But he seems okay. Maybe the monsters are keeping him young.

Edward lumbers on over to the door, adjusting himself in his shorts, while I grab one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

"Sir Bella-pants!" Masen says, running over a saluting me. "Bow to the new Queen of Cullen-land!"

I glance at Charlie in the doorway where she's holding a resigned looking Waldo under his armpits.

"If your sister is the queen does that make you the royal knight?" I ask him.

"More like the royal jester," Edward mutters, picking up both Charlie and Waldo and moving to sit on the bed.

"No, she is the lady witch that fixers people with her magic stick," he informs me as if I'm crazy to not know this. "I am your Queen. Bow to me."

Okay then. Glad to see my son has ignored gender roles. How progressive of him.

"Your grace," I say. It's difficult to keep a straight face as I bow to him.

"Don't you call me that girls name, bum!" he yells, arms flailing at me. "I'll chop your face off."

Okay, so maybe not so progressive.

"My apologies, Queen Masen," I say dramatically, bending over to pick him up. We join the rest of the family on the bed where Edward is demonstrating for the zillionth time how to nicely pet Waldo. "I shall never again call you a girls name."

Edward chuckles at this.

Edward and I settle against the headboard with Waldo between us as the monsters jump around, showing us the proper way to honor the new queen of Cullen-land. It involves a lot of butt bumping and tongue waggling.

But eventually they lose steam and we all crawl under the covers together with Edward and I on the ends, facing each other. Masen lays his head on my arm and faces his sister. I run my fingers through his hair as Edward reaches to turn off the light.

"Daddy!" Masen yells.

Edward climbs out of bed, opens the blinds to let the moonlight in.

"Hows that, Mase?"

"The closet too," Masen insists. Edward dutifully turns on the light in the closet and shuts the door, letting the light in through the cracks.

"There's nothing in there, Masie," Charlie says, her voice sleepy. "I looked."

"But you don't know what happens in the dark," Masen defends. "It's too dark."

"It's the same as the light," Charlie replies, snuggling back in to Edward's arms. "But just dark."

"It's not the same."

"Your sister is right, kid," Edward replies softly.

"Just don't turn it off," Masen mumbles.

We all exchanges kisses and I love yous.

It's quiet for a while, and I think everyone is finally asleep. Edward reaches an arm across our kids sleeping, touching my cheek. I lean in to his touch slightly and push my foot in between his calves.

"What if they don't like me?" Masen mumbles, surprising me.

"Who, baby?" I ask.

"The people in Colorado."

"Masen, they love you," Edward tells him. "They are your family. Remember, we saw them for Christmas and they gave you a bunch of presents. You have fun with your cousins."

"I guess," Masen replies, sounding unconvinced. This whole little conversation is totally unexpected and just reaffirms my desire to move back to Boulder. We are the only part family to not live close and my kids don't know what it's really like to be a Cullen as a result. I want them to feel the acceptance and love I feel. And soon they will.

"Will they like me?" Charlie asks, picking up on Masen's concern.

"They love you already," I say. "Just like me and Dad do. You'll see when we get there."

"And if they don't, I'll chop off their faces."

"That really won't be necessary," says Edward.

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**Cute, aren't they? Fluff is usually not my thing, but I think I'm doin' alright. **


	35. Epilogue the Second

**So here is a little something something for you. I hope you like it. Just more marital bliss and family craziness from these two. There is going to be one more after this (because I'm having a hard time letting go) and then probably an outtake (because so many of you have expressed a desire to see Bella prego with the monsters).**

**I don't own.**

**A million thank yous to everyone whose read/rec'ed/reviewed this story. Thank you for loving these characters as much as I do.**

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June 24, 2020

"What time is it?" I murmur against Bella's lips as it finally becomes clear that my dream is not actually a dream.

"Does it matter?" she whispers back, her hand pumping me as her teeth scrap gently against my jaw. I haven't even opened my eyes yet, but I can tell Bella is naked by touch.

She straddles my waist, leaving only for a moment to help me out of my boxers. Still, I don't open my eyes because I'm not totally awake yet.

I run my hands over her chest, lingering on her hardening nipples and causing her to sigh. I push a hand in between her legs, sliding through the wet and causing her to let out a low moan.

My fingers continue to rub and thrust as her hips roll against my hand. She leans forward, resting her forehead against mine as she pants and pushes her hands into my hair. I finally open my eyes to find her staring at me intently, eyes wide and shinning. A slight smile plays around her lips and she just looks so beautiful, my heart hurts.

The sun hasn't fully risen, and the early morning light gives our love making a dream-like feel. Bella looks ethereal in the light with a few strands of hair stuck to her forehead. The rest flares out around her head like a halo.

I have no concept of how much time passes as we continue to kiss and touch.

When my movements become too much for her she moves to line us up. She lowers herself so slowly and we moan when I finally fill her up.

It's a struggle to not thrust up in to her, but I let her set the pace. She leans back with her hands griping my thighs, and she starts to shudder as I hit all the right places. I can feel Bella fluttering around me and her slow, steady pace starts to deteriorate, so I sit up, touch her where we are joined, and kiss her deeply.

Bella falls apart with her name on my lips, but I manage to hold of. I don't give her any recovery time before I grip her hips and flip her over onto her back without ever losing contact. It's a tricky move, but we've has years of practice.

My wife cries out as I move, fast and hard now. Her back arches, she braces herself with her hands pressed against the headboard, and I've never seen anything as beautiful as her.

And she's mine forever.

I push my lips into her neck, tasting her moist skin. She keeps one hand flat on the headboard while the other tugs on my hair.

She feels so good and I'm so close. She is too. I can tell by her noises, the way she chants my name under her ragged breath. I hold out just long enough to make her come a second time but the feel of her tightening around me is just too much, and I join her a second later.

I collapse in to her neck and find it impossible to move for a while.

"What a way to wake up," Bella says, playing with my hair and sounding somewhat dazed.

I simply hum in agreement.

Our breathing slows and I must fall back asleep because when I open my eyes again, the sun is much higher in the sky and Bella is poking me in the side of the head. I groan, turning my head away from her and tightening my grip on her at the same time.

"Up now, Hubs," she demands, jostling under me. "My ass is numb and I gotta pee."

This is very upsetting and I whine a little as I roll off her, burying my head in a pillow in defense of the sunshine streaming in past the blinds.

The pillow smells like my wife. Lovely. I think I'll stay with my face right here all day.

"You can't be lazy all day," Bella calls from the bathroom, as if she can read my mind. "There is a lot of shit to be done. I can't even tell if I'm going to like this house yet with all the crap sitting everywhere."

Mumbling profanities under my breath, I sit up because I know she is right.

I survey our new bedroom. There is a mountain of boxes in the corner, toys spread across the floor last night when the twins "stormed the castle," and our familiar furniture. We haven't figured out where to put any of it yet.

In the two days since we moved in, we have done more family-reunioning than unpacking. Our bed, with all it's feather pillows and down comforter, is the one thing I insisted must be perfect.

I hear the shower running so I figure that I have a least a few more minutes, but then my wife pops back in.

Bella appears in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, still completely naked. This distracts me and it takes me longer than it should to realize that she is talking to me.

"…love this room," she is saying. "I really love that window seat thing. They have names right? Whatever, I don't fucking care. We are going to spend so much time reading or fucking or working in the nook."

"Sounds great, love," I reply, smiling at her.

"And I like the floors."

"Really?" I reply, looking down over the side of the bed at said floors. "Don't you think it's weird to have hardwood in a bedroom?"

"Naw, I like it. We'll just have to get a really big carpet. And I'm painting this room. I hate this color," she tells me, continuing to look out the window.

"It's white," I reply with a slight chuckle.

"Exactly," she says. "Hey, come shower with me."

Not needing to be told twice, I leap out of bed, sprint over to her, and sweep her in to my arms. She squeaks in surprise as I open the door to the large steam shower and step in.

I love this shower. It could seat four people and has multiple showerheads.

"This shower is so fucking awesome," Bella says when I set her down. "We're damn lucky your mom found us this house."

"We need another marriage rule," I say very seriously. We do this from time to time, instate rules. According to Bella, it really keeps the communication flowing.

"What?" Bella asks with a laugh.

"Talking about my mother is the shower forbidden," I reply.

Bella rolls her eyes at me and I kiss her.

"None of that," she scolds after a moment. She turns away from me, grabbing a bottle of shampoo. "Sit," she instructs. So I do. Which is awesome. Because we are in our shower.

Did I mention that there are two bench seats in this shower? Our shower. The best shower ever.

Bella starts washing my hair and I stare at her chest.

"Hey, focus," she says, tilting my face up to hers.

"Do I have to? I mean you asked me to shower with you."

"You are such a shameless hussy," she says.

I blink at her for a moment.

"Did you just call me a shameless hussy? How odd."

Bella then progresses to rattle off all the things she needs to get done. And there are a lot of them. Painting and unpacking and buying stuff and filling out paperwork to get the kids into school.

"What exactly do you need from me today?" I ask when she finally takes a breath.

Bella smiles at me and I know I said the right thing.

"I need you to take the monsters far, far away," she says. Is that is? I was expecting to be moving furniture and sent to Home Depot with a giant list of specific, impossible to find items. This is much better. I start my new job in four days, and the more time I can spend with the twins the better. "Think you can handle that? I mean, I love the wee ones but there is no way I'll get anything done with them around. I'll end up pretending to be a dinosaur with Masen or having a tea party with Charlie. They are highly distracting."

She continues rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, scrubbing scrubbing, scrubbing. Damn, that feels good.

"Yeah, I think I can handle that. I smack her butt and she flicks my forehead, detaching one of the showerheads to rinse my hair.

I find out for the first time that we now own a detachable showerhead. Excellent. I'm trying to steal it from my wife while I grope her when the Charlie and Masen burst through the bathroom door. I'm going to have to replace some doorknobs. None of ours lock.

Bella hides behind me and I move to cover my junk.

"Whachya doin'?" asks Charlie. Her hands are behind her back and she is swaying from side to side. I'm thankful the shower has made the glass real steamy so they probably can't see much.

"No kissing!" yells Masen.

"Good morning, loves of my life. Give mommy and daddy a minute," Bella instructs, peaking out from behind me. "You can jump on our bed."

"Yes!" Masen army crawls away. And then there were three.

"I'm hungry," Charlie says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Food in the belly!"

"Char, we'll be out in one minute. Can you wait that long?" I ask.

"Only if we can have ice cream," Charlie insists.

"We cannot have ice cream. That is not a breakfast food," I tell her. Although I do actually consider just giving her whatever she wants to get her out of here quicker.

"But I like it."

"Charlie, if you just go in to the bedroom for two seconds I'll be right behind you, and I'll whip up something."

Bella laughs and Charlie lets out a little sound of disgust. I'm a little offended by their lack of faith.

"Daddy burned the oatmeal."

"Charlie, go wait outside," Bella says in that serious mom voice she sometimes uses. "I'll be out in five minutes and then we'll make pancakes together, okay?"

"Okay."

"Make sure Masen doesn't break anything!" Bella calls after our daughter. "Go," my wife says, basically shoving me out of the shower.

"You're the one who told him to jump on our bed," I point out.

I wrap a towel around myself and stick my head back in the shower, enjoying the view of Bella washing her hair.

"Don't think I've forgotten about that detachable shower head."

Bella sprays me in the face.

The wee ones are doing a number on the bed and I gather some clothes before shutting myself into the walk in to change.

I get Masen and Charlie ready for the day while Bella finishes up in the shower without me. Our kids are pretty damn cute and very different. Masen always chooses to wear the most bizarre outfits. Today is a zip up vest, cargo shorts, and plastic boots that can be for either rain or snow that rarely leave his feet. Charlie has carefully selected a pink dress with white tights and pink ballet flats. Who knows what Masen will be wearing – clothes, food, dirt, and otherwise – at the end of the day. Charlie will look as pristine as she does now.

I can hear Bella working on the pancakes in our half unpacked kitchen as I come downstairs with a twin on each hip. They are having a contest to see who can kiss my face the most times before we get to the kitchen and I can't stop laughing. This fatherhood thing is pretty great.

By the time we enter the kitchen, my wife has disappeared. The kids continue their kissing contest, but I'm more focused on her whereabouts. I heard her in here a second ago.

But then the toilet flushes and Bella emerges from the bathroom, hand covering her mouth. I take in her pale cheeks and narrowed eyes with concern.

"Alright, love?" I ask, having to raise my voice over the noises of the twins continuing to smack kisses all over my face.

"Fine," she says, clearing her throat. She shakes her head quickly and forces a smile. It does nothing to alleviate my concern.

"Gotta get back to these pancakes." She basically sprints back over to the kitchen counter before I can give her a proper examination. I would just need a moment, even with the twins all over me. I am a professional, after all.

Charlie loses interest in their little game when she sees her mom return to the stove, and she wiggles out of my arms.

"Where's my apron?" she asks Bella.

"Don't know, kid. Probably in one of these boxes. We'll find it eventually but not before breakfast. Think you can help me out without it?"

I notice Bella pour herself a glass of water. She takes a small sip, sloshes the liquid around in her mouth, and spits in the skin before downing the rest of the water in a series of deep chugs.

"You really need my help?" Charlie asks, sounding excited.

Did she vomit? Is she sick?

"Of course, my sweet girl," Bella replies, sounding equally as enthusiastic.

Masen is still kissing my face.

"Mase," I say, continuing to laugh as I gently try to end his assault. "I think you're the clear victor, buddy."

"I'm not Victor," he replies, looking at me like I'm crazy. At least my words got him to stop. "I'm Masen. Remember, Daddy?"

I chuckle at this. "I remember your name, _Masen_." I give him a quick little tickle before explaining myself. "Victor is not just a person's name, it's also another word for winner."

"Oh," he says, nodding and his mouth forming a ridiculously large O. "Then call me Victor always. It's better than stupid old Masen."

What is up with my wife? I will be getting to the bottom of this.

"Masen's a great name. Would I give you a stupid old name? I think not."

"Daddy, you talk funny," Masen says, giggling and laying his forehead against my neck.

"I love you too, Mase," I reply, still chuckling. My boy is damn funny, even if he doesn't know it yet.

"Lot of love, Popper."

I trap Bella after she finishes serving the twins.

"What was that?" I whisper in her ear as she washes her hands at the sink. I try to get a whiff of her breath but she keeps her mouth away from me.

"What was what?" she asks, not looking at me and washing a mixing bowl. "Why aren't you eating your pancakes?"

"Why aren't _you_ eating _your_ pancakes?" I counter. "Possibly because you are sick and were vomiting not twenty minutes ago?"

I keep my voice low, not wanting the kids to hear me talk about vomiting. Masen thinks any and all body functions are hilarious while Charlie is beyond repulsed.

"You should like fucking Sherlock Holms, cracking the big case," Bella whispers back, drying the bowl now. I can tell that my hovering is annoying her as she attempts to move around the kitchen, but I will have my answer.

"Did I crack the big case?"

"I just had a moment," she replies, waving her hand at me dismissively. "I'm fine now."

She tries to move to the kitchen table, but I corner her by our lazy susan.

"Have you been feeling sick? Or just in the mornings, perhaps?" I say quietly, fluctuating between anger and excitement.

Bella stares up at me for a long moment, biting her lip. I wish I could tell what she was thinking.

"Edward, calm down," she instructs seriously. "It's too soon to tell about any of that yet. I haven't… I'm not supposed to get my period for another three days."

I can't help but grin down at her.

"That was the first sign with the twins. You got morning sickness at four weeks with them and you were feeling off for at least a week before that," I say, basically bouncing in place with my excitement.

We're gonna have a baby. Another baby. Four will become five. I'm gonna be a daddy!

"Please," she says, tugging on my shirt. Her eyes are pleading and on the edge of panic. "I don't… I don't want to jinx anything. It's too early to know for sure."

Ah, now I understand. Bella doesn't want to get her hopes up. Despite the miracle of the twins, Bella is a little gun shy. The scars of the miscarriage are still with my wife and even though a lot had change, she is still very careful with her optimism.

So I calm down. As much as I want to run around the neighborhood announcing – admittedly prematurely – our pregnancy, I refrain. It takes huge effort on my part, but I take a deep breath and relax.

"You're right," I say. "I won't say anything for the next three days, okay?"

"Promise me, Edward," she say, lightly punching my shoulder. "Don't go out a buy a bunch of tests or make me an appointment. No tempting of the universe."

I smile down at her before kissing her gently and wrapping my arms around her waist. I hold her tight because I have a good feeling. I know what she is scared to admit.

We're gonna have a baby!

God, I love babies. The way they smell and how they cuddle right into your chest. I was even oddly disappoint when Mase and Charlie figured out how to use the potty.

"I promise not to taught the universe," I say, struggling to keep a straight face as I agree to cater to her superstitious side. "You won't hear a peep out of me for the next three days."

"Thank you," she says, sighing in relief.

"No kissing!" says Masen.

After breakfast and clean up, I read to Charlie on our couch while Bella does something with Masen in the backyard. This is what she means when she said that she wouldn't get anything done with them around. She is a bigger problem than the kids. They distract her too easily, entrancing her into going on backyard adventures and other games. The next thing she knows it's the end of the day and it was a good one, but nothing that should have got done did.

I try to focus on my flesh and blood, real for sure daughter, by my mind keeps wandering to babies. Our baby. The baby growing in Bella, more specifically.

"Daddy, you didn't read that part right." Charlie reminds me that I've forgotten to use a girl voice for a female character, so I read the page over. Alice, children in tow, stalks into the kitchen at this moment and laughs at me.

"Sounding good, little twin," she says. "This place is still a disaster."

"Sorry we're not meeting you expectations, Alice," I reply as Charlie abandons me to greet her cousins. "Some of us actually enjoy sleep."

"I can't believe you can even fall asleep with your house this messy," she muses.

I shrug in response. After Masen, messes annoy me less. Well get settled and everything will have a place eventually.

"Where is your wife?" Alice asks, watching the kids run off in to the living room.

"In the backyard," I reply. "She is scouting out a place to garden. You know how she likes the idea of living off the land."

"Good grief, she can't focus on anything can she?" Alice accuses with a huff. "Her house is unpacked, she called me over here to talk lit mag, and now she is out poking around in the dirt."

"What can I say? She's a busy lady."

"How the hell does all this translate into a hard copy of my literary magazine?" Bella demands, looking over my sister's shoulder at the laptop twenty minutes later.

"Bella, it's InDesign. How have you never used this program before?" Alice replies, rolling her eyes. "And should this even be a priority right now? You haven't even really unpacked."

Bella let's out a big sigh. "Yeah, you're right. It's just I'm excited to get shit going now that I'm back in Boulder and close to all my editors."

When we moved to Seattle my wife had been doing free lance stuff for several different publications. She continued to write here column as well as interest pieces about living abroad. But when we finally settled down and I started to actually make some decent money, she decided to quit all that and do what she really wanted to do. She got a literary grant, hired a web designer, asked old contacts in Boulder to edit, and started her own submission based, online publication.

Thus _Distractions_ was born.

It's pretty damn cool. Through subscriptions, Bella makes enough money to cover her costs and put a little away. Now that Bella is living closer to most of her editors and inspired by reader demand, Bella is working on printing a hard copy quarterly.

"Don't you think you should wait till the kids are in school and you are all settled in?" Alice asks.

"I know, I know, you're right," my wife says, sounding resigned. "I just want to be printing by the October edition. "

"That seems realistic."

"I'm melting! I'm melting!" Masen's screams can be heard from the other room right along with the laughter of the other kids. There is a thump and a crash. My wife and my sister both turn to look at me.

"I'll go check on the kids," I says, stepping in to the hall as Alice and Bella continue to bicker.

Despite the current state of chaos, I really like our new house. It has four bedrooms, three and a half baths. The outside is brick and wood with a large wrap around deck and an even larger back yard. It was built in the 20's and the paneling has detailing that reminds Charlie of a gingerbread house.

The inside has all been renovated with wood floors, granite countertops, and a really great master bathroom. It's far enough away from campus to be kid friendly and rather low key.

We bought it unseen. Esme found it for us. And everything about it is perfect. I think we will be here for a very long time.

I move from the kitchen to the living room. The bright, open space is littered with boxes, random furniture, and children.

They have somehow over turned a sofa. Charlie and Jordan, Alice's five year old, lie on their backs underneath it and pound repetitively. Henry is trying to lift Masen out of another box that is rattling ominously.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch," chants Masen.

I quickly move across the room, lifting my kid. His foot got stuck between the cardboard and scraped him up a little bit, but otherwise he's okay.

"What's up guys?" I ask.

"We're bored," says Henry.

"Yeah," echoes Masen.

"Well, let's do something cool," I suggest. "Your Uncle Emmett wants to go swimming."

Emmett and Rose have four kids – Willy, Billy, Tommy, and Addie, ages eight to two. When their second was born Emmett surprised us all and quit his big-wig HR job to become a stay at home dad. Rose has always worn the pants and Em is just a big kid anyway, so it works out.

"Cannon ball!" Masen shouts, launching himself out of my arms and onto the upturned couch while the girls scream underneath it.

The boys get excited while the girls get really cranky about being forced to leave their "home" under the couch.

It takes another forty-five minutes, but eventually I coordinate with Emmett and get all eight Cullen cousins to the pool.

Soon to be nine. But I'm getting a little a head of myself.

Sometimes, I feel a bit like I'm herding cats.

I love it though, this life we're making.


	36. Outtake  Bella's Pregnancy Freak Out

**So I just realized that a year ago yesterday I published this sucker. It's crazy that I've been living with these characters for a year. Dang. **

**This outtake is the much requested Bella freaks out about getting pregnant scene. **

**One more epi and I think its time to say goodbye. *tear***

**On a happy note, I've got a new story. It's pretty cool, I think. Check it out.**

**Words cannot express how awesome you (yeah, I'm talking to YOU) are for reading, reviewing, recing. Whatever.**

**Thank you.**

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January 2015

"I miss my cat," I whine to my friend Carmen as we chat over drinks in Barcelona's Raval neighborhood. According to Carmen this part of the city was once super sketchy, but now its all bohemian, an artists haven.

Which is cool. Because I'm kinda an artist.

Carmen and her long-time lover, maybe-husband Eleazar live down here so this is usual where we end up when we get together. Though it's great and funky, I honestly prefer the Gothic Quarter, despite the mass off tourists always stomping around.

The churches are beautiful and I like to people watch.

Although I would never tell Carmen that. She'd probably never speak to me again.

"What is a cat compared to this city?" she scoffs, gesturing with her glass of wine.

"Carmen, for fucks sake," I groan in frustration. We've been having this argument for the last month and she just doesn't get it. "Just because I'm home sick doesn't mean I'm insulting your city. I love Barcelona. But we've been here for four months."

"Four months is no time at all," she insists.

"Carmen, do you see that man?" I point towards the bar where are men folk are chatting and laughing.

"Of course I see that man. What, do you think I'm blink?"

"That man," I continue as if she didn't speak, "is a healer. A lifesaver."

"A lifesaver," she echoes.

"His hands." I put my own hands in her face for dramatic effect. Also because I'm a little bit drunk. "His hands save lives."

"What else do his hands do?" Carmen asks, waggling her eyebrows at me.

I giggle a lot and turn red.

"You're missing the point," I scold.

"Darling, _that_ is the point."

"Carmen! You're incorrigible. The point is that those life saving hands are current working as a shop keeper for our crazy land lords instead to stitching people up!" I say. "Plus, I miss being around people I understand."

"You're such an ugly American, Isabella. Imagine not learning the language of the locals." She sighs and shakes her head at me in shame.

"I try!" I defend. "I really do. I'm just hopeless at languages. I barely get my own."

"You studied English in school, yes?" Carmen asks with an arched eyebrow.

"I've always been shockingly bad at grammar given my profession. Editors hate me."

Carmen snorts elegantly. Which I imagine is had to do. I don't think I've even met anyone as elegant as Carmen. Sometimes I don't get what this beautiful Barcelonan sees in me. But two days after we moved here I stumbled into her, spilling her coffee. She yelled at me in that flowly, foreign tongue for a solid minute before she realized I had no idea what she was say. I bought her a new cup, joined her table, and that was that.

"When ever you drink you talk about this cat. What is so great about this beast?" Carmen asks.

I finish my wine and slap a hand over my heart. "His name is Waldo. He's orange and he's got these big, green, crossed eyes. He's Edward in cat form," I gush.

Carmen stares at me with mild distaste for a good long minute. "Most of the time I have no idea what you are going on about."

I have a good laugh at that, not even able to stop as Edward takes his seat next to me and slides his hand up my thigh.

"Have I told you that you're gorgeous when you laugh?"

I smile at my husband's typically adorable flattery.

"A time or two," I reply, leaning over to give him a kiss.

"So what are we talking about, ladies?" asks Eleazar, draping his arm around Carmen's shoulders.

"Waldo," I say with a sigh.

"Should Edward feel threatened?" Eleazar drawls.

"He's our cat," Edward explains.

"You have a cat? I've never seen a cat," Eleazar continues, looking puzzled. I snort at this. Eleazar as seen our miniscule apartment all of one time. There is barely room for two people to fit comfortably in there. With four it's just downright uncomfortable.

"He's currently living with my sister in Colorado," Edward explains. Why are you talking about Waldo?"

"I have no idea," Carmen says, putting her palms up as if she is declaring her innocence.

"Because I miss him, Edward. With his big eyes and that way he tilts his head. "

"I miss him too. Even the way he sleeps on my face."

"And the way he licks your nose just once when you're not paying enough attention to him."

"And how clean he is about going to the litter box."

I laugh about that for a second. That's when I realize Carmen and Eleazar are staring at us like they've never seen us before.

"What?" I ask.

"You two are so strange. You talk of Waldo like he's a person, not some sort of flea bitten animal," Carmen says, looking like there is something foul smelling under her nose.

"Aw,' I say, turning to Edward. "He kinda is like a person. Like a child! Our child. I want to see him soon."

"Soon," Edward agrees, nodding.

"Enough of this strange conversation. It's making me uncomfortable. Let's dance," Carmen says, finishing her drink and pulling Eleazar out of his chair.

Edward and I follow close behind.

Our small studio apartment always smells like bread.

This is probably because we live above a bakery. It is both great and terrible at the same time. I've gained at least ten pounds because I'm always munching on various baked goods.

Edward sells the bread. Which is hilarious and a bit weird, but we met this old couple vacationing in Rome and we got to talking. They offered us free accommodations fin exchange for one of us working in their bakery. We don't need the money, of course, but it was just too good of an adventure to pass up. Originally, I was excited to bake, but when it turned out they needed a clerk not a baker, Edward stepped in. There is no way I could communicate with customers. Edward – master of many languages – was just thrilled with the opportunity to speak Catalan. He picked it up quick, which is good because I'm beyond hopeless.

Plus, Edward wanted to give me the chance to write.

It's been pretty great though, living in this city. I love just wandering, getting to know Barcelona on foot. Most days I find myself in some little café in front of big windows, typing away or people watching.

But I am ready to go home. I'm just not so sure about Edward. In the last few years he's had the wanderlust. Bad.

"Good morning, my love." Edward's scratchy voice comes from the small bed behind me. I turn away from the window where I've been sipping my tea and looking out over the city.

"Hey, babe," I reply, setting down my mug and walking over to my hubs. He has a bunch of lines on his face, imprints from how he slept on the pillow. It's too damn cute.

"Nice shirt," he says, playing with the hem of the button up he worn out last night. "Come here."

He scoots as close to the far wall as he can and I kick off my slippers before crawling in next to him. It's almost February now and today is grey and chilly. I press my cold nose against his neck and he shivers.

"How are you this morning?" he murmurs, kissing my hair.

"Actually, I'm feeling a little off," I tell him, even through admitting this to my over protective doctor husband is sure to only bring me annoyance. But this way Edward won't mind staying in bed with me all day instead of making me go to some bizarre museum like he usually does on his days off. "My tummy hurts."

I pout at him and try to look miserable.

"Oh no, wifey," he says, brow furrowing. "Is it bad?"

"Naw," I assure him. "Just a little off. It's a good day to stay in bed."

"What do you want to do?"

Twenty minutes later I'm dozing with my head on Edward's stomach. He is playing with my hair and reading _Pride and Prejudice._ My hubs can only handle so much Jane Austen, but he picked the book for me, knowing I'm not feeling right. His low voice is so soothing and his skin is so warm.

This is my heaven. Right here. In bed with my man, reading classic literature.

"I don't get it," Edward says with a huff.

"Get what?" I ask with a smile. I can tell by his tone that he is about to get all frustrated and irritated by something completely ridiculous.

"Mr. Darcy. I don't get the appeal of Mr. Darcy. I mean, he's all quiet and annoying and stuck up," Edward says. I don't open my eyes but I can tell by the way his belly moves that he's gesturing wildly with his hands. I can picture it clearly so there is really no need to look.

'Yeah, he's all rich and in to saving the day. It's totally weird," I reply with only a little bit of sarcasm. "Where's the appeal there?"

Edward is silent for a moment.

"Isabella," he says, his voice low and stern. "Did you just compare me to Mr. Darcy?"

"I would never," I reply with a giggle.

Edward lets out a growl and then bends to kiss me. I smile against his lips and throw my arms around his shoulders.

"Don't worry, babe," I murmur between kisses. "I like my men a little more goofy. And ginger."

He pulls away to frown down at me.

"Really?" he asks. "_Really_?"

I'm about to reply, but then I'm overcome with the sudden urge to puke my guts out. Shoving Edward off with more force than necessary, I sprint to the bathroom with my hand covering my mouth.

I barely make it to our tiny toilet before hurling up the piece of toast and three cups of coffee that made up my breakfast.

My shoulders heave as Edward gathers my hair.

"I thought the days of you holdin' my hair back as I puked were over," I mutter miserably into the bowl.

"Normally I would chuckle at that but at the moment I'm too concerned," he replies tersely. "Did you eat anything weird?"

"Just what you've fed me," I snap back, being unnecessarily rude. "Sorry. I don't like being sick."

"I don't like you sick either," he says, bending down to examine me. Gently, he tilts my face towards his and lays a hand over my forehead. "You don't have a temperature. Your color's returning. When we your last period?"

"What?" I say, bating his hands away. "Gross."

He shakes his head at me. Probably because I just referred to my period as being gross to my doctor husband.

"Bella," he says, grabbing my hand and grinning at me. "Are you late?"

I stare at him blankly. I have no job. What could I possibly be late for?

"Late for what?" I ask, questioning his sanity. I've found in the last few years of world travel and livin' like wanderers that I question his sanity kinda a lot. I've also found that usual its best to just trust the man.

Who knew he's such an adventurer?

"Late late," he says, rolling his eyes at me.

It still takes me another 30 seconds to figure out what his blathering about.

"Oh fuck," I say, feelin' a little like I'm gonna puke again.

Usually, the whole baby thing is something I try not to think about. We haven't really been trying for the last couple years, but we haven't really been not trying either. To be honest, I've kinda giving up on the whole thing. For a year or so a part of me has just resigned myself to the fact that babies aren't in the cards for us. I haven't told Edward any of these fears, but he knows. He always knows.

I mean, I once tearily asked him to get me more tampons. That was probably pretty obvious.

"You better not be fuckin' with me, Cullen," I say, waving my hand in his face somewhat obnoxiously.

"I simply asked a question, Cullen," he says, imitating my snappy tone.

I sigh.

"Take a deep breath," Edward says, running his thumb over my cheekbone.

My deep breath comes out more of a squeak.

My mind is going a million miles a minute, and I'm having a hard time focusing on fucking dates.

"Who needs dates?" I continue in this hysterical, high-pitched voice. "I don't need dates! I only know it's the weekend because you make me stay in bed till noon. I'm a writer with monthly deadlines! And I only know a deadline is approaching because I set my phone to beep at me! I don't even need to pay attention to the day of the week."

Edward raises an eyebrow at me. Who's questioning whose sanity now?

"Okay," he says with authority. "This is what we're going to do, Isabella. Just one think at a time. First, we're just going to stand up and brush that vomit out of your teeth. Can you handle that?"

I nod silently.

I accomplish this one simple task and feel an odd sense of accomplishment.

"Good job," Edward says. He is smiling slightly, and I can tell he thinks I'm a fool, but I don't have space in my head for that.

Baby. Of baby. When was my last period? Baby. Prego. Period, period, period, period. I'm oddly in to the name Tobias.

Oh holy Krishna.

I don't even dare to hope to pray to dream about bein' prego.

"Bella, now that you're all fresh and clean, we're going back to bed."

I scowl at him. There is no way I can focus on _that_ and a time like _this._

"We have our best talks in bed," he explains. I nod and grab his hand because he's right. All the big ones tend to happen in bed. I shuffle my feet, vaguely aware that I'm acting like a dazed fool.

Did I mention that I won't let myself dare to hope to pray to dream to be carrying Edward's child again?

I settle in next to Edward, right in the crook of his arm. I slip my hand under his t-shirt in an attempt to ground myself a little.

"Wife of mine?" Edward prompts after letting me just sit in silence for a moment. "When was your last deadline?"

"Last week."

"Okay. Were you on your period?" he asks. I make a face because it's gross before really thinking about his question.

"No," I answer, again oddly pleased that I remember.

Edward smiles at me indulgently.

"What about the deadline before that?" he pushes.

I think for a good solid minute, wracking my brain.

"No," I say, squinting and thinking as hard as I've even thought. "It had just stopped!"

Edward and I grin at each other and than high five.

"And you haven't had it since then?" he asks, hands on my shoulders.

"No!" I say, jubilantly jump to my feet. I let out a girlish shriek and do a happy dance. "I'm late. I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!" I sing.

Edward laughs as I continue to do a little dance.

But then I remember how easily I lost our baby last time and how scary it is to have my hopes up and suddenly I don't feel like celebrating. As quickly as I popped up, I lie back down.

"What just happened?" Edward asks, bending over me to see me lying flat on my back and working my lip. He removes it from my teeth with his thumb.

"I'm putting myself on bed rest. It's the safest option."

Edward lets out a snort, and I glare at him. "Oh, you're serious," he says, beamused as he struggles to keep up with my erratic behavior.

I place my hands protectively over my flat belly.

"Firstly, I'm the doctor here so I will be determining what the safest option is. Secondly, I think you're getting a little a head of things here. We don't know anything for sure. I don't want you to get your hopes to high, Bella. But there is knowing wrong with positive thinking."

I tear up a little because he is so fucking right.

Fuck, even after all these years I'm still such a nutcase.

"I want it to be for sure," I whisper. Edward settles next to me, pulling me into his arms.

"Me too."

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you too," he replies, kissing me softly. "So much."

Two days or a week or five days later – like I said, it's difficult keeping track here in Barcelona – Edward has me pee on a stick. It is a frustrating process being as the fucking thing is in a language I can't read. It probably doesn't help that I've been super frazzled and throwing up every morning.

My hands shake I want this so bad as we wait for the results. I pace around the apartment, biting my lip and glancing over at Edward every few seconds.

He's been remarkably calm through this whole thing.

After what seems like twelve years, I lose patience and go over to harass my husband who is holding the pee stick and looking at his watch intently.

"Well?" I demand. "What does that funny little symbol mean?"

"Thirty more seconds, Bella," he says, still staring at his watch.

I quell the irrational urge to punch him. It's not his fault time has slowed down or that I'm such an insane person when it comes to babies. I really hope I'm pregnant. The disappointment would crush me. Edward too, I think, but he'll be better at hiding it.

I go back to pacing and biting my lip.

"Bella," Edward says hours later.

I pause in front of him, wringing my hands nervously. Part of me doesn't want to know. I'll just find out in nine months if a baby pops out of me.

Fuck, I'm crazy. If the test is false I'm probably going to turn into one of those women who are convinced they're pregnant when they're not. Hysterical pregnancy, that's what it's called. Shit, maybe that's what this was from the beginning.

That is just plain stupid. Edward is the least hysterical person I've even met.

Too bad I can't say the same for myself.

"Bella," he says again. I look up too see him smiling like a fool. "Get out of your head. Did you hear a word I just said?"

I shake my head. I was too busy freaking out to pay attention to words.

My husband's whole face is lit right up like the Fourth of July. That's a good sign, right? Damn, he's pretty.

"It's positive," Edward says quietly, reverence and awe lacing his tone. It's almost like he doesn't really believe his own words. I can relate. "We're pregnant."

I just stand there staring at him with my mouth a gape for a moment while his words sink in.`

When they do, I promptly burst into tears.

Edward rushes to me, holding me as I collapse against him. I cry into his neck as he whispers brilliant things about loving me and loving our baby and how everything is going to be wonderful.

This is so scary. Letting myself believe it is so scary.

When I fail to calm down, Edward brings me over to the bed, settling with me leaning against his chest. He runs a comforting hand down my back.

"What if that shity test is wrong? How can I trust you to be reading it right? What if all this is just some terrible joke of the universe? Damn you, universe! I take that back. My apologies, universe. What if something goes wrong? What if there is another disappearance? What if this is all actually fucked up a dream? Waking up tomorrow is gonna suck balls. What if—"

Edward covers my mouth to stop my hysterical rant. I stare up at him with watery eyes as he removes his hand and encourages me to take deep breaths. It takes another five minutes, but eventually I calm down.

Edward kisses me, briefly but intensely.

I manage a watery smile for him.

"Better?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, blushing. "Sorry about that."

My freak out is just embarrassing. I wish I could give Edward a normal, happy, we're havin' a baby celebration, but I'm not built that way. I'm too scared to be happy yet. It seems too good to be true, and I feel like if I let myself be happy then something will go horribly wrong, leaving me broken.

"Don't be sorry," he replies, drying my cheeks. "I know this is hard for you in a way I can't really understand totally."

I just nod. He seems pretty understanding to me.

"Part of that is your crazy hormones, you know. I hope you're prepared to get even crazier," he says, teasing me a little. I glance up at him, pleased that he looks so happy, thrilled even.

I'm glad one of us is brave enough to be happy.

"I want to go to a real doctor," I tell him, grabbing his hand and relaxing into him with my head on his shoulder. "In the States. One who speaks English who can give me hard-core proof."

I'm a little nervous that Edward is going to want to stay abroad for the rest of our lives, that we are just going to end up aimlessly floating and he'll never realize his fuck-awesome doctor dreams. He has just loved the travel and the moving so damn much. He says he's never felt this free.

But I just want to go home.

"I booked the tickets the day you threw up for the first time," he says quietly. I hear the trepidation in his voice, like he's scared I'm going to freak out that he didn't include me in that decision.

I'm so motherfucking relieved I don't get even a little bit pissy about him keeping shit from me.

"How many days ago was that?" I inquire.

"Three," he replies.

Huh, it seems like forever.

"And when do we go home?" I don't even have to ask where we are going. Although Carlisle and Esme flew out for Christmas, we haven't seen the rest of the clan for over two years. We haven't even met the newest Cullen, William. Rose is already knocked up – again. It's getting a little ridiculous, and there is no way we aren't flying right to Colorado.

And Waldo. I'm so excited to see my kit-kat.

Where the hell else would we go?

"Six days," he admits, running his hand through his hair. I frown in displeasure.

"Do you want to stay here?" he asks, really flustered now and totally misinterpreting my facial expressions. "I just figured you'd want to be around the family. It's been so long since we've seen—"

This time, I'm the one covering his mouth to get him to shut up.

"Edward, I'm so goddamn ready to get home. Ideally, we'd leave tomorrow," I say.

Edward grins at me. "I think we need a little more time to get our affairs in order."

"Six days," I say, nodding.

"We're going home," he whispers.

I kiss him, feeling so much. Edward pulls away after a moment, resting his forehead against mine and smiling softly at me with such love, he has my tummy fluttering, even after all this time.

My husband tentatively palms my flat stomach, and I tear up a little again. Never breaking eye contact, I cover his hand with my own. I can't help but smile back at him, and in this one perfect little moment, I ignore all that other crap and find the happy. In this one perfect little moment, I let myself believe that everything is going to be wonderful.


End file.
